EURIPIDES. 


TRANSLATED  BY 

THE  REV.  R.  POTTER,  M.A 

PREBENDARY  OP  NORWICH* 


IN  THREE  VOLUMES. 


VOL.  III. 


NEW-YORK  • 

PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS 
NO.  82  CLIFF-STREET. 

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CONTENTS 

OF 

THE  THIRD  VOLUME. 


THE  TRAGEDIES. 

Page 

Hecuba . 5 

Helena  47 

Electra . 107 

Orestes .  -  155 

Iphigenia  in  Tauris . 215 

Andromache . -  267 


“  A  correct  translation,  always  faithful,  sometimes  elevated  * 
^Bibliographical  Miscellany. 


> 


HECUBA. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONAE 


Ghost  of  Polydorus. 
Hecuba. 

POLYXENA. 

Ulysses. 

Talthybius. 

Agamemnon. 

Polymestor. 

Female  Attendant. 
Chorus  of  Trojan  dames. 


HECUBA 


ARGUMENT. 

During  the  period  that  the  Grecian  fleet  is  detained  on  the 
coast  of  Thrace,  on  their  return  from  the  siege  of  Troy,  the 
ghost  of  Achilles  appears  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  and  de¬ 
mands  the  sacrifice  of  Polyxena,  the  daughter  of  Priam  :  the 
maiden  is  accordingly  torn  from  the  embraces  of  her  mother, 
and  put  to  death.  Shortly  after,  a  dead  body  is  cast  on  the 
shore,  which  Hecuba  immediately  recognises  to  be  that  of  her 
son  Polydorus,  whom  King  Polymestor,  his  guardian,  had 
barbarously  murdered,  in  order  to  secure  to  himself  those 
treasures  with  which  the  young  man  had  been  amply  supplied 
by  his  indulgent  father.  Bent  on  the  prosecution  of  her  re¬ 
venge,  Hecuba  secures  the  interest  of  Agamemnon  in  her 
behalf,  and  sends  for  the  perfidious  monarch,  with  his  two 
sons,  whom  she  and  her  companions  delude  with  a  specious 
discovery  of  secreted  wealth ;  till,  seizing  a  favourable  oppor¬ 
tunity,  they  put  to  death  the  two  princes,  and  deprive  Poly¬ 
mestor  of  his  eyes.  This  outrage  is  made  the  subject  of 
formal  complaint  to  Agamemnon,  who  exculpates  Hecuba. — <" 
[The  scene  is  before  the  Grecian  tents,  on  the  coast  of  the 
Thracian  Chersonese.] 


GHOST  OP  POLYDORUS. 

The  mansions  of  the  dead,  the  gates  of  darkness, 
Where  Pluto  dwells  from  the  bless’d  gods  apart, 

I  leave,  the  son  of  Hecuba  and  Priam. 

When  danger  threatened  that  the  Phrygian  state 
Would  sink  beneath  the  conquering  spear  of  Greece, 
He,  fearing  for  his  much-loved  Polydore,  6 

In  secret  sent  me  from  the  Trojan  land, 


8 


EURIPIDES. 


To  Polymestor’s  court,  his  Thracian  friend, 

Bound  to  him  by  each  hospitable  tie  ; 

Who  cultivates  this  fertile  Chersonese,  10 

And  with  his  spear  a  warlike  people  rules. 

With  me  he  sent  in  secret  stores  of  gold, 

That,  if  the  walls  of  Troy  should  fall,  his  sons, 
Whoe’er  survived,  might  find  a  rich  support. 

I  was  the  youngest  of  the  sons  of  Priam,  15 

And  therefore  sent,  because  my  youthful  arm 
Could  not  sustain  the  shield,  or  hurl  the  spear. 
While  Troy’s  strong  bulwarks  stood,  and  her  high 
towers 

Unshaken,  and  while  Hector’s  spear  prevail’d, 

The  Thracian  rear’d  me  with  a  father’s  care,  21 
And  I,  like  some  fair  plant,  grew  up  and  flourish’d. 
But  when  Troy  sunk,  her  Hector  now  no  more, 

And  Priam’s  palace  smok’d  upon  the  ground, 
Himself  upon  the  hallow’d  altar  fallen, 

Slain  by  Achilles’  blood-polluted  son,  25 

This  hospitable  friend,  to  seize  my  gold, 

Kill’d  me,  and  rudely  toss’d  my  lifeless  corse 
Into  the  billows  of  the  surging  sea : 

There  yet  it  lies,  now  dash’d  upon  the  strand, 

Now  whelm’d  beneath  the  tide’s  returning  wave,  30 
Unwept,  unburied.  For  my  mother’s  sake 
I  wander,  having  left  my  breathless  body. 

Three  days  I  hover  here,  for  now  three  days 
Hath  the  unhappy  Hecuba  from  Troy 
Continued  on  the  abhorred  Chersonese  :  35 

Here  all  the  Grecians  hold  their  anchor’d  ships, 

And  sit  inactive  on  the  Thracian  shore ; 

For  Peleus’  son,  appearing  o’er  his  tomb, 

Achilles,  hath  detained  the  Argive  troops, 

As  they  directed  home  their  sea-dipp’d  oars :  40 

Polyxena,  my  sister,  he  demands, 

II  In  the  martial  times  of  antiquity  the  spear  was  reverenced 
as  something  divine,  and  signified  the  chief  command  in  arms 
it  was  also  the  insigne  of  the  highest  civil  authority. 


HECUBA. 


9 


A  victim  dear,  to  grace  his  honour’d  tomb : 

Nor  shall  he  not  be  gratified  ;  so  high 
His  grateful  friends  revere  his  mighty  name. 

This  day  fate  leads  my  sister  to  her  death :  45 

Two  lifeless  bodies  shall  the  mother  see 
Of  her  two  children  ;  that  unhappy  virgin’s 
And  mine.  The  rites  of  sepulture  to  obtain, 

Before  a  female  slave  will  I  appear 
Here  on  the  wave-washed  shore;  for  from  the 
powers  50 

That  rule  beneath,  this  grace  have  I  implored, 

To  find  a  tomb,  and  by  my  mother’s  hand. 

These  desired  honours  shall  be  mine :  but  far 
From  the  aged  Hecuba  will  I  withdraw, 

Who  now  from  Agamemnon’s  tent  advances,  55 
Affrighted  at  the  vision  which  I  sent. 

Alas,  my  mother !  who  from  royal  seat 
Hast  seen  the  day  of  slavery  :  ill  thou  farest, 
Worse  for  the  change  from  well ;  thy  former  state 
Sunk  by  some  god,  and  counterpoised  with  ruin.  60 

HECUBA,  CHORUS. 

Hec.  Lead  me,  ye  Trojan  dames,  a  little  onward, 
A  little  onward  lead  an  aged  matron, 

Now  your  poor  fellow-slave,  but  once  your  queen. 
Take  me,  support  me,  lead  me,  bear  me  up, 

Holding  my  aged  hand  :  myself  the  while  65 

Will  lean  upon  this  bending  staff,  and  guide 
The  slow  advances  of  my  feeble  feet. 

Thou  beaming  light  of  day  !  Ye  shades  of  night ! 
With  phantoms  thus,  with  terrors  of  the  dark, 

Why  am  I  thus  distracted  ?  And,  O  Earth,  70 
Thou  awful  mother  of  black-winged  dreams, 

Avert  these  visions  of  the  night,  which  late 
Dreams  of  my  son  kindly  in  Thrace  preserved, 
Dreams  of  Polyxsna,  my  much-loved  daughter, 
Presented  to  my  soul :  I  saw,  I  knew,  75 

I  understood  the  vision,  dreadful  sight ! 

Gods  of  this  land,  preserve  my  son,  who  now, 


10 


EURIPIDES. 


The  sole  remaining-  pillar  of  my  house, 

Amid  the  hospitable  snows  of  Thrace 
Finds  a  protector  in  his  father’s  friend.  80 

Yet  I  forebode  some  ill :  some  dismal  tidings 
Will  jar  in  harsh  notes  on  our  wounded  ears ; 

For  my  soul  shivers  with  unwonted  terrors. 

Tell  me,  ye  Trojan  dames,  where  find  I  now 
The  divine  spirit  of  my  Helenus,  85 

Where  my  Cassandra’s,  to  expound  my  dreams  ? 

I  saw  a  dappled  fawn  torn  from  my  bosom, 

Forcibly  torn  by  the  wolf’s  bloody  gripe, 

And  slaughter’d,  piteous  sight !  Dreadful  to  me 
This  vision :  dreadful  that  which  late  appear’d  90 
O’er  proud  Achilles’  tomb ;  for  he  demands 
A  victim,  some  unhappy  Trojan  dame. 

But  from  my  daughter,  suppliant  I  entreat  you, 

Gods,  from  my  daughter  far  avert  this  ill ! 

Cho.  With  quick  pace,  Hecuba,  to  thee  I  fly,  95 
Leaving  the  proud  tents  of  our  lords,  by  lot 
Where  I  am  doomed  a  slave,  enthrall’d  beneath 
The  Grecian  spear,  and  dragg’d  from  Ilium’s  walls  ; 
Not  to  alleviate  thy  miseries, 

But,  loaded  with  the  weight  of  heavy  news,  100 
A  messenger  of  griefs,  lady,  to  thee. 

The  Greeks  in  council  have  decreed  to  give 
Thy  daughter  as  a  victim  to  Achilles  : 

Thou  know’st  that  he,  appearing  o’er  his  tomb 
In  all  his  golden  arms,  stopp’d  their  fleet  ships,  105 
Their  sails  unfurl’d  and  waving  in  the  wind, 

Calling  aloud,  “  And  is  it  thus,  ye  Greeks, 

You  speed  your  course,  my  tomb  unhonour’d  left  ?” 
The  waves  of  much  contention  soon  arose, 

The  warrior  troops  dividing  their  resolves,  110 
The  victim  some  to  offer,  some  refuse. 

The  royal  Agamemnon  strove  with  zeal 
To  favour  thee,  and  cultivate  the  love 
Of  the  inspired  Cassandra  ;  but  the  sons 
Of  Theseus,  the  Athenian  chiefs,  talk’d  high,  115 
Propounding  each  a  different  argument ; 


HECtJBA. 


11 


In  this  according  both, — with  purple  blood 
To  grace  Pelides’  tomb,  and  not  prefer 
Cassandra’s  bed  before  the  hero’s  spear. 

High  the  debate,  and  doubtful  the  event,  120 

Till  now  Ulysses,  wily  sophister, 

Steeping  his  words  in  honey  to  allure 
The  populace,  advised  them  not  to  slight 
The  noblest  Creek  to  spare  a  captive’s  bloo  1 ; 

Nor  let  the  slain,  standing  near  Proserpine,  125 
Complain  that  Greece  is  thankless  to  her  heroes, 
Who  for  their  country  died  on  Ilium’s  plain. 

Soon,  very  soon,  Ulysses  will  be  here 
To  tear  the  tender  virgin  from  thy  bosom, 

And  drag  her  from  thy  aged  arms.  But  go,  130 
Go  to  the  temples,  to  the  altars  go  ; 

Fall  supplicant  at  Agamemnon’s  knees  ; 

Invoke  the  gods  of  heaven,  the  gods  beneath  : 
Either  thy  prayers  must  save  thee  from  the  loss 
Of  this  unhappy  daughter,  or  thine  eyes  135 

Behold  her  fallen  a  victim  at  the  tomb, 

Her  virgin  lirtibs  purpled  with  blood,  that  wells 
In  dark  streams  from  her  golden-tressed  neck. 

Hec.  0  miserable  me  !  What  voice  of  wo, 

What  plaints,  what  lamentations  shall  I  utter,  140 
Wretched  through  wretched  age,  and  slavery, 
Harsh,  unsupportable  ?  O  wretch,  wretch,  wretch, 
Who  will  protect  me  now  1  What  child,  what 
state  ! 

My  husband  is  no  more,  my  sons  no  more. 

Where  shall  the  unhappy  find  relief  ?  What  god,  145 
What  pitying  power  will  succour  my  distress? 

Ye  messengers  of  ill,  destructive  ill, 

You  have  undone  me,  ruin’d  me  ;  no  more, 

The  light  of  life  hath  no  more  charms  for  me. 

Lead  my  unhappy  steps,  lead  my  old  age  150 

Nearer  this  tent.  My  daughter,  0  thou  child 
Of  a  most  wretched  mother,  come,  come  forth  ; 

It  is  thy  mother’s  voice  :  come  forth,  my  child, 


12 


EURIPIDES. 


That  I  may  tell  thee  all  this  tale  of  wo, 

A  tale  no  less  importing  than  thy  life.  155 

HECUBA,  POLYXENA,  CHORUS. 

Pol.  I  come :  but  why,  why  calls  my  mother 
thus  1 

What  new  affliction  hast  thou  now  to  tell, 

That  thus  thou  draw’st  me  trembling  from  the  tent, 
Like  a  poor  bird  affrighted  from  its  nest  1 
Hec.  Alas,  my  child  ! 

Pol.  Why  those  ill-boding  words, 

Ominous  to  me  1  160 

Hec.  Thy  life,  alas,  thy  life — 

Pol.  Speak  to  me,  tell  me,  hide  it  not  from  me. 

I  fear,  I  fear :  why  heaves  that  deep-drawn  sigh  1 
Hec.  My  child,  thou  child  of  an  unhappy  mother ! 
Pol.  Tell  me  thy  grief. 

Hec.  Pelides’  ruthless  son,  165 

With  the  united  suffrage  of  all  Greece, 

Urges  to  slay  thee  at  his  father’s  tomb. 

Pol.  These  are  indeed  unmeasurable  ills. 

But  tell  me,  tell  me  all. 

Hec.  I  do,  my  child  ; 

A  tale  that  chokes  my  voice,  the  votes  of  Greece  170 
Touching  thy  life. 

Pol.  Unhappy  mother,  sunk 

Beneath  affliction,  and  the  miseries 
Of  painful  life,  destined  to  suffer  wrongs 
Abhorr’d,  unutterable !  Now  no  more 
Shall  thy  sad  daughter  tend  thy  wretched  age-,  175 
Wretched  herself  in  joint  captivity  ; 

For  thou  shalt  see  me  torn  from  thy  fond  arms, 

And  like  a  mountain  heifer  sacrificed 
To  the  infernal  powers,  untimely  sent 
To  the  dark  regions  of  eternal  night :  180 

There  ’mong  the  dead  unhappy  shall  I  lie. 

But,  my  afflicted  mother,  ’tis  for  thee 
I  pour  these  plaints,  and  for  thy  childless  age. 

My  life,  my  wrongs,  my  ignominious  fate 


HECUBA. 


13 

185 


I  mourn  not ;  death  to  me  is  happiness, 

And  triumph  o’er  the  tyranny  of  fortune. 

Cho.  But  see,  with  hasty  step  Ulysses  comes, 
Bringing,  be  sure,  some  message  of  fresh  ill. 

ULYSSES,  HECUBA,  POLYXENA,  CHORUS. 

Ulys.  Lady,  the  purpose  of  the  host,  I  ween, 

Is  not  to  thee  unknown  ;  yet  I  must  speak  it.  190 
Polyxena,  thy  daughter,  on  the  tomb 
High  to  Achilles  raised,  a  victim  Greece 
Decrees  :  to  lead  the  virgin  is  my  charge. 

The  hero’s  son,  presiding  o’er  the  rites, 

Waits  to  receive  her.  How  wilt  thou  resolve  1  195 
Advise  thee  :  be  not  dragg’d  away  by  force, 

Nor  tempt  the  rude  touch  of  a  stronger  hand  : 

Weigh  well  the  power,  the  presence  of  thy  ills. 

To  bear  afflictions  as  we  ought  is  wise. 

Hec.  It  comes,  alas  !  the  dreadful  trial  comes,  200 
Of  lamentation  full,  nor  void  of  tears. 

And  yet  I  am  not  dead  :  would  I  were  dead ! 

Jove  hath  not  yet  destroy’d  me ;  yet  I  live 
To  bear  affliction  on  affliction,  each, 

O  miserable  !  greater  than  the  former.  205 

But  may  slaves  be  permitted  of  the  free 
To  ask — I  mean  no  rudeness,  no  reproach — 

But  may  we  ask  \  And  wilt  thou  answer  us  1 
Ulys.  You  may;  ask  freely:  I  allow  the  time. 
Hec.  Dost  thou  remember  when  thou  cam’st  to 
Troy  210 

A  spy,  disfigured  in  vile  weeds  1  Thine  eyes 
Rain’d  drops  of  death,  that  trickled  down  thy  beard. 
Ulys.  The  impression  was  too  strong  to  be  erased. 
Hec.  But  Helen  knew  thee,  and  told  me  alone. 
Ulys.  The  mighty  danger  I  remember  well.  215 
Hec.  Then  lowly  lay’st  thou  grovelling  at  my 
knees. 

Ulys.  So  that  my  cold  hand  died  within  thy  robe. 
Hec.  I  saved  thee  then,  and  sent  thee  from  the 
town. 

Eurip.  Vol.  III. — B 


14 


EURIPIDES. 


Ulys.  Hence  I  behold  the  light  of  this  fair  sun. 
Hec.  What  didst  thou  say,  when  thou  wast  then 
my  slave  1  220 

Ulys.  Pleading  for  life,  I  could  find  many  words. 
Hec.  Thus  thine  own  counsels  prove  thee  base  : 
thy  life 

I  saved  ;  thy  words  confess  it :  thou  returnest 
To  us  no  good,  but  always  extreme  ill. 

A  thankless  tribe  you  are,  who  file  your  tongues  225 
To  popular  grace  :  would  I  had  never  known  you  ! 
Of  injuries  to  friends  you  reck  not,  if 
Your  fine  speech  wins  the  favour  of  the  people. 

But  why  these  artful  trains  to  allure  their  voice 
Thus  to  decree  the  murder  of  my  child  1  230 

What  dire  necessity  compels  you  thus 
A  human  victim  at  the  tomb  to  slay  1 
Or  doth  Achilles,  with  just  rage  inflamed 
’Gainst  those  that  wrought  his  death,  intend  her 
death  ? 

She  never  did  him  wrong  :  let  him  demand  235 
Your  Helen  as  a  victim  to  his  tomb; 

She  wrought  his  death  by  drawing  him  to  Troy. 

If  some  illustrious  captive,  some  choice  beauty, 

Must  be  devoted,  beauty  is  not  ours : 

The  accomplish’d  Helen  boasts  superior  charms,  240 
Not  less  injurious  found  than  we  have  been.  f  ^ 
These  things  I  urge  in  equitable  plea. 

But  at  my  suit  what  grace  thou  shouldst  requite, 
Hear  :  thou  hast  touch'd  my  hand,  thou  hast  fallen 
down 

(Thou  own’st  it  too),  a  suppliant  at  my  knees ;  245 
Arid  now  thy  hand  I  touch,  thy  knees  I  grasp  : 
Requite  that  grace,  I  beg  thee,  I  conjure  thee  ; 

Tear  not  my  daughter  from  me,  slay  her  not : 

We  have  already  had  enough  of  death. 

In  her  delighted  1  forget  my  griefs  :  250 

The  sole  remaining  comfort  of  my  age, 

My  kingdom  she,  my  nurse,  my  staff,  my  guide. 

Ill  it  becomes  the  great  to  show  their  greatness 


HECUBA. 


15 


In  unbeseeming  insolent  commands ; 

Nor  should  the  prosperous  too  proudly  deem  255 
Their  high  state  steadfast,  and  exempt  from  change. 
I  once  was  so,  but  now  am  so  no  more  ; 

One  day  tore  from  me  all  my  happiness. 

But  reverence  thy  suppliant,  pity  me, 

Go  to  the  troops,  address  them,  let  them  know  260 
How  infamous  it  is  to  murder  women, 

Dragg’d  from  the  altars,  whom  before  they  spared. 
Teach  them  to  pity  us.  The  laws  of  blood 
Are  equal  to  us  slaves,  and  you  our  lords. 

Speak  thou  but  ill,  thy  dignity  shall  move  them  :  265 
’Tis  not  the  counsel,  but  the  speaker’s  worth, 

That  gives  persuasion  to  his  eloquence. 

Cho.  The  sternest  and  the  most  unfeeling  nature, 
Hearing  thy  lamentable  plaints,  must  melt, 

And  drop  the  sweet  dew  of  impassioned  pity.  270 
Ulys.  Hecuba,  be  advised:  let  not  thy  rage 
Deem  him  thine  enemy  who  reasons  well. 

To  thee  I  owe  my  safety ;  in  return, 

Thy  person  I  am  ready  to  protect. 

But  what  1  counsell’d  ’mid  the  assembled  chiefs  275 
My  tongue  retracts  not ;  to  the  noblest  Greek, 

Who  since  the  fall  of  Troy  demands  a  victim, 

To  give  the  victim  he  demands,  thy  daughter. 

That  state  must  fall,  and  many  states  have  fallen, 
Where  the  brave  soul,  that  harbours  virtuous  thought, 
Neglected  like  the  vilest  coward  lies.  281 

Achilles,  lady,  by  transcendent  worth 
Merits  our  honours;  the  illustrious  chief, 

Who  shed  for  Greece  his  dear  blood  in  the  dust. 
Shame  were  it  then  to  use  the  hero’s  might  285 
While  life  inform’d  him,  and  to  slight  him  dead. 

Go  to  :  should  Greece  again  unite  her  powers, 
Should  other  wars  call  her  brave  sons  to  arms, 
Would  they  then  fight,  or  choose  ignoble  ease, 

If  he  that  falls  in  war  unhonour’d  lies  1  290 

For  me,  while  life  remains,  let  me  receive 
Some  slight  reward,  the  slight  reward  contents  : 


16 


EURIPIDES. 


But  when  I  die,  build  me  the  lofty  tomb, 

For  great  intent  and  honourable  deed 
A  monument  to  late  posterity.  295 

Thou  wailest  thy  afflictions  :  but  reflect, 

We  have  our  aged  matrons,  hoary  sires, 

And  tender  brides  widow’d  of  noble  husbands, 
WThose  bones  lie  mouldering  in  the  dust  of  Troy, 
That  feel  afflictions  piercing  as  thy  own  :  300 

Then  bear  them.  If,  in  reverencing  the  dead, 

We  judge  amiss,  our  folly  on  our  heads. 

Barbarians,  you  nor  reverence  your  friends, 

Nor  to  the  brave,  that  honourably  died, 

Pay  honours  due.  Hence  conquest  waits  on  Greece, 
And  your  ill  counsels  yield  you  like  reward.  306 
Cho.  Ah  me  !  how  wretched  is  the  state  of  slaves, 
Compell’d  by  force  to  bear  indignities  ! 

Hec.  In  vain,  my  child,  for  thy  dear  life  I  plead ; 
My  words  are  lost,  and  vanish  in  the  air.  310 

Thou  mayst  have  more  persuasion  than  thy  mother. 
Like  the  sweet  nightingale,  whose  plaintive  notes 
Charm  the  dull  ear  of  night,  plead  for  thy  life  ; 

In  all  the  eloquence  of  grief  fall  down, 

Embrace  his  knees  :  nor  want’st  thou  argument; 
He  too  hath  children  :  move  his  pity  to  thee.  316 
Pol.  I  see,  Ulysses,  that  thou  hid’st  thy  hand 
Beneath  thy  robe,  and  turn’st  thy  face  away, 
Inexorably  bent  on  stern  repulse. 

My  prayers,  be  confident,  shall  not  assail  thee.  320 
I  follow  thee  :  necessity  requires  it, 

And  death’s  my  warm  wish  now :  should  I  refuse, 
The  too  fond  love  of  life  would  mark  me  base. 

Why  should  I  wish  to  live  1  My  morn  of  life 
Rose  royally,  a  mighty  monarch’s  daughter,  325 
Nurs’d  in  the  lap  of  honourable  Hope, 

A  bride  for  kings,  who,  with  no  common  ardour 
Transported,  sought  to  lead  me  to  their  thrones. 
With  lowly  reverence  the  Trojan  dames 
Beheld  me,  as  the  virgin  train  among  330 

I  moved  superior,  like  a  goddess,  save 


HECUBA. 


17 


Of  mortal  mould.  But  I  am  now  a  slave : 

That  word,  new  to  my  ears,  makes  death  my  wish. 
Perchance  some  savage  lord,  whose  gold  might  buy 
This  wretched  sister  of  the  illustrious  Hector,  335 
Might  wear  me  down  in  household  drudgery, 
Compell’d,  or  at  the  mill,  or  in  the  loom, 

To  toil  away  the  miserable  day ; 

Then  bid  some  paltry  slave  pollute  my  bed, 

To  which  contending  monarchs  late  aspired.  340 
It  shall  not  be  :  free  leave  I  heaven’s  sweet  light, 
And  free  present  me  to  the  shades  below. 

Lead  then,  Ulysses,  lead  me  to  my  death  ; 

For  now  no  ray  of  hope,  no  beam  of  thought 
Gives  confidence  of  brighter  days  to  come.  345 
And  thou,  afflicted  parent,  speak  not,  act  not, 

To  oppose  my  firm  resolve ;  but  strengthen  me 
To  die,  rather  than  bear  dishonest  wrong. 

When  ills  unwonted  seize  the  fortunate, 

He  bears  them,  but  their  hard  yoke  galls  his  neck  : 
Happier  in  death  ;  for  life,  its  honours  lost,  351 
Becomes  a  burden  most  intolerable. 

Cho.  Strong  is  the  mark,  illustrious  the  high  im¬ 
press 

Of  noble  birth,  from  great  to  greater  still 
Advancing,  when  the  dignity  of  virtue  355 

Reflects  fresh  lustre  on  nobility. 

Hec.  Honour  is  in  thy  words,  but  ’mid  that  honour, 
My  child,  dwells  grief. — If  you  must  gratify 
The  son  of  Peleus,  from  yourselves  to  avert 
What  might  cause  blame,  slay  not,  ah !  slay  not  her : 
Lead  me,  Ulysses,  to  Achilles’ tomb ;  361 

Strike,  spare  not :  1  brought  Paris  forth,  whose  hand 
Wing’d  the  barb’d  shaft  which  pierced  this  son  of 
Thetis. 

Ulys.  Not  thee,  the  hero’s  shade  demands  not 
thee ; 

But  her  must  Greece  present  the  destined  victim. 
Hec.  Yet  slay  me  with  my  child,  and  Tr2ur  my 
wood  m 

B  2 


18 


EURIPIDES. 


With  hers,  a  double  offering  to  the  Earth, 

And  him,  the  mighty  dead,  who  calls  for  blood. 

Ulys.  The  virgin’s  death  sufficeth:  to  enough 
We  add  not  more.  Would  Heaven  hers  might  be 
spared!  370 

Hec.  It  is  of  strong  necessity  that  I 
Die  with  my  child. 

Ulys.  What  strong  necessity? 

I  know  no  mighty  lord’s  commanding  power. 

Hec.  I’ll  clasp  her,  as  the  ivy  clasps  the  oak. 
Ulys.  Not  so,  if  temperate  prudence  might  advise. 
Hec.  Never,  O  never  will  I  quit  my  child.  376 
Ulys.  Nor  I,  without  the  virgin  leave  this  place. 
Pol.  Mother,  forbear  :  and  thou,  Laertes’  son, 

Be  gentler  to  a  parent  rack’d  with  grief. 

O  thou  unhappy,  strive  not  with  the  strong.  380 
Wouldst  thou  fall  prostrate,  harrow  up  the  ground, 
And  rend  thy  aged  limbs,  unseemly  dragg’d 
By  the  rude  violence  of  younger  hands  ? 

Ah,  draw  not  on  thee  such  indignities  ! 

But,  my  loved  mother,  give  me  thy  dear  hand,  385 
And  to  join  cheek  to  cheek  ;  for  now  no  more, 

No  more  shall  I  behold  the  sun’s  bright  beams, 

His  orb  no  more  :  receive  my  last  address  : 

To  the  dark  mansions  of  the  dead  I  go.  389 

Hec.  And  I  in  heaven’s  fair  light  shall  be  a  slave. 
Pol.  Nor  bridal  bower  nor  nuptial  torch  awaits  me. 
Hec.  Mournful  thy  state,  but  miserable  mine. 

Pol.  There  far  from  thee  in  darkness  shall  I  lie. 
Hec.  What  shall  I  do,  alas  !  where  end  my  life  ? 
Pol.  Born  of  free  parents,  I  shall  die  a  slave.  395 
Hec.  And  I  of  fifty  children  am  bereaved. 

Pol.  To  Hector  what,  and  to  thy  aged  husband 
What  message  shall  I  bear? 

Hec.  That  I’m  most  wretched. 

Pol.  Alas,  thou  tenderest,  kindest,  best-loved  pa¬ 
rent  ! 

H  ec.  Alas,  my  child’s  untimely,  cruel  fate  !  400 

Pol.  Mother,  farewell :  farewell,  Cassandra  too  ! 
Hec.  Fare  others  well ;  nothing  is  well  to  me. 


HECUBA. 


19 


Pol.  Farewell,  my  Polydore,  in  warlike  Thrace ! 
Hec.  If  yet  he  lives :  I  doubt — so  wretched  all. 
Pol.  He  lives,  and  lives  to  close  thy  dying  eyes. 
Hec.  I  die  before  my  death  beneath  my  ills.  406 
Pol.  Lead  me,  Ulysses  ;  but  first  veil  my  head. 
My  heart  melts  in  me  at  my  mother’s  griefs, 

And,  ere  I  die,  my  wailings  melt  her  heart. 

0  light!  for  yet  I  may  express  thy  name,  410 

Our  commerce  is  no  more,  save  the  short  space 
The  sword  waits  for  me  at  Achilles’  tomb. 

HECUBA,  CHORUS. 

Hec.  Ah  me  !  I  faint :  my  limbs  no  more  support 
me. 

My  daughter,  do  but  touch  me  ;  stretch  thy  hand, 
Give  it  me  :  do  not  leave  me  childless  thus.  415 
Lost,  irrecoverably  lost,  undone  ! — 

Would  I  might  see  the  Spartan  Helen  thus; 

For  her  bright  eyes  brought  all  these  ills  on  Troy. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I. 

Tell  me,  ye  gales,  ye  rising  gales, 

That  lightly  sweep  along  the  azure  plain,  420 

Whose  soft  breath  fills  the  swelling  sails, 

And  waft  the  vessel  dancing  o’er  the  main ; 

Whither,  ah !  whither  will  ye  bear 
This  sickening  daughter  of  despair  1 
What  proud  lord’s  rigour  shall  the  slave  deplore  425 
On  Doric  or  on  Phthian  shore ; 

Where  the  rich  father  of  translucent  floods, 
Apidanus,  pours  his  headlong  waves, 

Through  sunny  plains,  through  darksome  woods ; 
And  with  his  copious  stream  the  fertile  valleys  laves? 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

Or  shall  the  wave-impelling  oar  431 

Bear  to  the  hallow’d  isle  my  frantic  woes, 

Beneath  whose  base  the  billows  roar, 

And  my  hard  house  of  bondage  round  enclose  ? 


20 


EURIPIDES. 


Where  the  new  palm,  the  laurel  where,  435 
Shot  their  first  branches  to  the  air, 

Spread  their  green  honours  o’er  Latona’s  head, 

And  interwove  their  sacred  shade. 

There,  ’mid  the  Delian  nymphs,  awake  the  lyre  ; 

To  Dian  sound  the  solemn  strain,  440 

Her  tresses  bound  in  golden  wire, 

Queen  of  the  silver  bow,  and  goddess  of  the  plain. 

STROPHE  II. 

Or  where  the  Athenian  towers  arise, 

Shall  these  hands  weave  the  woof,  whose  radiant 
glow 

Rivals  the  flower-impurpled  dies  445 

That  on  the  bosom  of  the  young  spring  blow ; 

And  on  the  gorgeous  pall  present 
Some  high  and  solemn  argument ; 

Yoke  the  proud  coursers  to  Minerva’s  car, 

And  whirl  her  through  the  walks  of  war  ;  450 
Or  ’gainst  the  Titans  arm’d  let  thundering  Jove, 

In  all  heaven’s  awful  majesty, 

Hurl  hideous  ruin  from  above, 

Roll  his  tempestuous  flames,  and  vindicate  his  sky? 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

Alas,  my  children,  battle  slain  !  455 

Alas,  my  parents  !  Let  me  drop  the  tear, 

And  raise  the  mournful,  plaintive  strain, 

Your  loss  lamenting  and  misfortune  drear. 

Thee  chief,  imperial  Troy,  thy  state 
I  mourn  deserted,  desolate  ;  460 

Thy  walls,  thy  bulwarks  smoking  on  the  ground, 
The  sword  of  Greece  triumphant  round ; 

I,  far  from  Asia,  o’er  the  wide  sea  born, 

In  some  strange  land  am  call’d  a  slave, 

Outcast  to  insolence  and  scorn,  465 

And  for  my  nuptial  bed  find  a  detested  grave. 

TALTHYBIUS,  HECUBA,  CHORUS. 

Tal.  Tell  me,  ye  Trojan  dames,  where  shall  I  find 
The  afflicted  matron, late  the  queen  of  Troy? 


HECUBA.  21 

Cho.  Near  thee,  Talthybius,  on  the  ground  she  lies, 
In  her  robes  muffled. 

Tal.  O  supreme  of  heaven,  470 

What  shall  we  say  ?  That  thy  firm  providence 
Regards  mankind  1  or  vain  the  thoughts  which  deem 
That  the  just  gods  are  rulers  in  the  sky, 

Since  tyrant  Fortune  lords  it  o’er  the  world? 

Was  not  she  queen  of  Phrygia  rich  in  gold?  475 
Was  not  she  wife  of  Priam  bless’d  with  power? 

But  now  her  vanquished  empire  is  no  more  ; 

Herself  a  slave,  old,  childless,  on  the  ground 
She  lies,  and  soils  her  hoar  head  in  the  dust. 

Alas,  the  change  I  too  'am  old :  be  death  480 
My  portion,  ere  I  sink  to  that  low  fortune. — 

Rise,  thou  afflicted  ;  stand  on  thy  feet ;  hold  up 
Thy  reverend  head. 

Hec.  Disturb  me  not :  who  art  thou, 

That  wilt  not  let  my  sorrows  lie  on  the  earth  ? 

Why  dost  thou  raise  me,  whosoe’er  thou  art  ?  485 

Tal.  I  am  Talthybius,  herald  of  the  Greeks, 

By  Agamemnon,  lady,  sent  for  thee. 

Hec.  0,  welcome,  welcome !  have  the  Greeks  de¬ 
creed 

To  slay  me  also  at  the  tomb  ?  These  tidings 
Are  full  of  joy  :  haste,  quick,  lead  me,  old  man.  490 
Tal.  That  thy  dead  daughter,  lady,  in  the  earth 
Thou  mayst  entomb,  attending  thee  I  come, 

Sent  by  the  sons  of  Atreus,  and  the  host. 

Hec.  Alas,  what  wilt  thou  say  ?  Comest  thou  not 
then 

Charged  with  my  death,  but  with  this  bitter  mes¬ 
sage  ?  495 

Torn  from  thy  mother,  art  thou  dead,  my  child  ? 

Am  I  bereaved  of  thee  ?  Ah,  wretched  me ! 

But  were  ye  gentle  in  your  butchery, 

Or  did  stern  rigour  steel  your  hostile  hearts? 

Tell  me,  old  man  ;  no  pleasing  tale  at  best.  500 
Tal.  Twice,  lady,  shall  I  wipe  the  tearful  eye 
In  pity  of  thy  daughter  :  when  she  died, 


22 


EURIPIDES. 


The  warm  drop  fell ;  now  shall  it  fall  again, 

As  I  relate  each  mournful  circumstance. 

The  assembled  host  of  Greece  before  the  tomb  505 
Stood  in  full  ranks  at  this  sad  sacrifice  : 

Achilles’  son,  holding  the  virgin’s  hand, 

On  the  mound’s  extreme  summit ;  near  him  I ; 

An  honourable  train  of  chosen  youths, 

In  readiness  her  smugglings  to  restrain,  510 

Follow’d  :  the  golden  goblet  crown’d  with  wine 
The  hero’s  son  then  took,  and  with  his  hand 
Pour’d  the  libation  to  his  father’s  shade 
At  his  high  bidding,  I  alopd  proclaim’d 
Silence  through  all  the  host:  and  all  were  silent. 
Then  he  : — “  0  son  of  Peleus  !  O  my  father  !  516 

Accept  my  offerings,  which  evoke,  which  sooth 
The  dead  :  O,  come,  drink  the  pure  purple  stream, 
Which  from  this  virgin  we  present  to  thee. 

Loose  all  our  cables,  wing  our  flying  sails,  520 
Propitious  give  us  to  return  from  Troy, 

And  safe  revisit  our  paternal  Greece.” 

He  spoke,  and  with  him  all  the  people  pray’d. 

Then,  taking  by  the  hilt  his  golden  sword, 

He  drew  it  from  the  scabbard  :  at  his  nod  525 

The  noble  youths  advanced  to  hold  the  virgin ; 
Which  she  perceiving,  with  these  words  address’d 
them : — 

“  Ye  Greeks,  beneath  whose  arms  my  country  fell, 
Willing  I  die  ;  let  no  hand  touch  me:  boldly 
To  the  uplifted  sword  I  hold  my  neck.  530 

You  give  me  to  the  gods  :  then  give  me  free  ; 

Free  let  me  die  ;  nor  let  a  royal  maid 
Blush  ’mong  the  dead  to  hear  the  name  of  slave.” 
Loud  was  the  applause :  the  royal  Agamemnon 
Commands  that  none  should  touch  her  :  at  the  voice 
Of  their  great  chief  the  obedient  youths  retire.  536 
Soon  as  she  heard  the  imperial  word,  she  took 
Her  robe,  and  from  her  shoulder  rent  it  down, 

And  bared  her  bosom,  bared  her  polish’d  breast, 
Beauteous  beyond  the  sculptor’s  nicest  art :  540 


HECUBA. 


23 


Then,  bending  to  the  earth  her  knee,  she  spoke 
Words,  the  most  mournful  sure  that  ear  e’er  heard: — 
“  If  ’tis  thy  will,  young  man,  to  strike  this  bosom, 
Strike  :  or  my  throat  dost  thou  require  ?  behold, 
Stretch’d  to  thy  sword,  my  throat.”  Awhile  he 
paused,  545 

In  pity  of  the  virgin  ;  then  reluctant 
Deep  in  her  bosom  plunged  the  fatal  steel. 

Her  life-blood  gush’d  in  streams  :  yet,  ev’n  in  death 
Studious  of  modesty,  composed  she  fell, 

And  cover’d  with  her  robe  her  decent  limbs.  550 
Soon  as  the  vital  spirit  through  the  wound 
Expired,  in  various- toils  the  Greeks  engaged  : 

Some  on  the  breathless  body  scattered  boughs  ; 
Some,  bringing  unctuous  pines,  the  solemn  pyre 
Funereal  raised :  was  one  remiss,  the  active  555 
Rebuked  him  thus  : — “  Dost  thou  stand  idle  here, 
Thou  drone  1  Hast  thou  no  robe,  no  ornament, 
Nothing  to  grace  this  high  heroic  spirit, 

This  glorious  excellence  1”  Thus  they  their  zeal 
With  generous  ardour  to  the  dead  express’d.  560 
But  thee,  blest  parent  of  the  noblest  offspring, 
Happiest  of  women,  now  I  see  most  wretched. 

Cho.  Such  ruin  o’er  my  country,  and  the  house 
Of  Priam,  swells  :  so  will  the  rigorous  gods. 

Hec.  O  my  poor  child !  Which  first  shall  I  be¬ 
wail  565 

’Mid  this  immensity  of  ills  1  If  one 
Engage  my  thoughts,  another  rushes  on, 

Bringing  distraction  :  sorrow  throngs  on  sorrow, 
And  misery  to  misery  succeeds. 

But  now  the  memory  of  thy  cruel  fate  570 

From  my  sad  heart  shall  never  be  erased. 

Yet  this  alleviates  ;  nobly  didst  thou  die. 

If,  favour’d  by  the  heavens,  the  unfertile  soil 
Teems  with  the  golden  grain,  and  if  the  fertile, 

553  This  was  in  imitation  of  the  honours  paid  by  the  specta 
tors  to  the  conquerors  in  the  Olympic  and  Pythian  games. 


24 


EURIPIDES. 


Robb’d  of  due  culture,  brings  forth  naught  but  weeds, 
We  wonder  not :  with  man  it  is  not  so  ;  576 

The  bad  can  never  be  but  bad,  the  good 
But  good  ;  uninjured  by  calamity, 

His  nature  braves  the  storm,  and  is  good  always. 
But  whence  this  difference?  From  the  parents  is  it, 
Or  from  instruction?  In  the  school  of  honour  581 
Is  virtue  learn’d;  and  he  that’s  nurtured  there 
Knows,  by  the  law  of  honour,  what  is  base. 

But  all  in  vain  I  bolt  my  sentences. 

Go  thou,  require  the  Grecians  not  to  touch  585 
My  daughter ;  no  ;  but  keep  the  rabble  from  her  : 

In  a  large  army  some  are  riotous  ; 

Like  wildfire  runs  the  sailor’s  insolence, 

And  not  to  be  flagitious  is  a  crime. 

And  thou,  my  old  attendant,  take  thy  urn,  590 
Dip  in  the  sea,  and  bring  the  briny  wave, 

That  with  the  last  ablutions  I  may  bathe  her, 

Not  for  the  bridal  bed,  but  for  the  tomb. 

But  I  will  grace  her  obsequies  with  all 
The  honours  she  deserves  :  ah,  whence  ?  I  have  not 
Wherewith  to  grace  them  :  as  1  may  then :  what,  596 
What  shall  I  do  ?  From  the  poor  captive  dames, 
That  sit  around  me  in  yon  lordly  tents, 

I  will  collect  what  little  ornaments 
Each  from  her  former  house  hath  snatched  by 
stealth,  600 

And  kept  by  these  new  masters  unobserved. 

Ye  faded  splendours  of  my  house  !  O  house 
Once  fortunate  !  0  Priam  !  on  whose  state 
Magnific  wealth  attended,  in  thy  children 
Supremely  bless’d,  I  too  was  bless’d  in  them,  605 
How  are  we  fallen,  from  all  our  greatness  fallen, 

All  our  proud  glories !  Yet  in  these  we  boast, 

Our  gorgeous  palaces,  and  titled  honours. 

All  these  are  nothing  but  high-sounding  words, 

And  polished  perturbation.  Happiest  he,  610 

Whose  humble  state  misfortune  never  knew. 


HECUBA. 


25 


CHORUS. 

STROPHE. 

Dreadful  Discord  first  arose, 

Leading  dangers,  leading  woes ; 

Destruction  joined  the  train, 

When  in  Ida’s  forests  hoar  615 

Paris  hew’d  the  venturous  oar, 

And  dash’d  it  in  the  main  : 

In  gallant  trim  the  vessel  cuts  its  way, 

And  wafts  the  wanton  boy  to  Helen’s  arms ; 

In  his  wide  course  yon  radiant  orb  of  day  620 
Ne’er  with  his  golden  beams  illumined  brighter 
charms. 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Toil  on  toil,  a  hideous  band  ! 

Ruthless  Ruin’s  iron  hand, 

Vindictive  close  us  round. 

Simois,  o’er  thy  verdant  meads,  625 
Desolation  frowning  treads, 

And  blasts  the  goodly  ground : 

E’er  since  the  Phrygian  shepherd,  blind  to  fate, 

’Mid  the  contending  beauties  of  the  skies, 
Adjudged  the  palm,  inexorable  hate,  630 

And  war,  and  death,  and  havoc  round  us  rise. 

EPODE. 

Nor  on  Simois’  banks  alone 
Sighs  the  sad  and  plaintive  moan. 

Or  Ilion’s  wasted  plain : 

Nigh  Eurotas’  silver  tide  635 

Many  a  tear  the  Spartan  bride 
Pours  for  her  lover  slain  : 

There  for  her  children,  lost  in  wild  despair, 

The  frantic  mother  bids  her  sorrows  flow; 

Rends  from  her  reverend  head  her  hoary  hair,  640 
And  tears  her  bleeding  cheeks  in  agonies  of  wo. 

FEMALE  ATTENDANT,  CHORUS,  HECUBA. 

Att.  Daughters  of  Troy,  say,  where  is  Hecuba< 
Eurip.  Vol.  III. — C 


26 


EURIPIDES. 


Who  in  the  dreadful  combat  of  affliction 
Unmatch’d  surpasses  all  of  human  race  ! 

That  crown  nor  man  nor  woman  bears  from  her.  645 
Cho.  What  new  misfortune  jars  upon  thy  tongue, 
That  thy  discordant  clamours  never  sleep  ! 

Att.  To  Hecuba  I  bring  this  grief :  in  ills, 

The  voice  of  wo  is  harsh,  untunable. 

Cho.  See,  opportunely  from  yon  tents  she  comes. 
Att.  0  my  unhappy  mistress,  more  unhappy  651 
Than  words  can  utter  !  Ruin  comes  on  thee, 
Quenching  the  light  of  life :  a  queen  no  more, 

A  wife  no  more,  a  mother  now  no  more  ! 

Hec.  There  needs  not  thy  rude  voice  to  tell  us 
this.  655 

But  what !  bringest  thou  here  the  lifeless  corse 
Of  my  Polyxena,  whose  funeral  rites 
Greece  with  united  zeal  prepares  to  grace  1 
Att.  Ah,  she  knows  nothing ;  but,  lamenting  still 
Polyxena,  suspects  not  this  new  loss.  660 

Hec.  O  my  unhappy  fate  !  Dost  thou  then  bring 
The  heaven-inspired  Cassandra’s  sacred  head! 

Att.  Thou  speakest  of  the  living ;  but  the  dead 
Demands  the  sigh :  behold  the  corse  uncover’d, 

A  sight  to  raise  astonishment  and  horror.  665 

Hec.  Ah  me  !  it  is  my  son,  my  Polydore, 

And  dead,  whom  safe  beneath  the  Thracian’s  roof 
I  fondly  deem’d.  Now  I  am  lost  indeed, 

In  total  ruin  sunk.  My  son  !  my  son ! 

O  wo,  wo,  wo  !  Affliction’s  cruel  power  670 

Teaches  my  voice  the  frantic  notes  of  madness. 
Att.  Knowest  thou  aught  then  touching  thy  son’s 
death  1 

Hec.  Strange,  inconceivable  to  thought,  I  see 
Horrors  on  horrors,  woes  on  woes  arise. 

Never,  henceforth,  ah,  never  shall  I  know  675 
A  day  without  a  tear,  without  a  groan. 

Cho.  Dreadful,  0  dreadful  are  the  ills  we  suffer. 
Hec.  Alas,  my  son,  son  of  a  wretched  mother, 
What  hard  mishap  hath  robb’d  thee  of  thy  life ! 


HECUBA. 


27 


What  fate,  what  hand  accursed  hath  wrought  thy 
death ?  680 

Att.  I  know  not ;  on  the  wave-wash’d  strand  I 
found  him. 

Hec.  Cast  up,  or  fallen  beneath  the  bloody  spear? 
Att.  Cast  on  the  smooth  sand  by  the  surging 
wave. 

Hec.  Ah  me  !  now  know  I  what  my  dream  fore¬ 
bodes  : 

The  black-wing’d  phantom  pass’d  me  not ;  the  vision 
Show’d  to  my  sleeping  fancy’s  frighted  eye  686 

My  son  no  longer  in  the  light  of  life. 

Cho.  These  visions,  teach  they  who  hath  slain 
thy  son  ? 

Hec.  He,  our  false  friend,  who  spurs  the  Thracian 
steed. 

To  whom  his  father  for  protection  sent  him.  690 
Cho.  Ah  me ! — what !  slew  him  to  possess  his 
gold? 

Hec.  Unutterable  deeds,  abominable, 

Astonishing,  unholy,  horrible ! 

Where  are  the  laws  of  hospitality? 

Tyrant  accursed,  how  hast  thou  gored  his  body,  695 
Gash’d  with  the  cruel  sword  his  youthful  limbs, 

And  steel’d  thy  heart  against  the  sense  of  pity ! 

Cho.  Never  on  mortal  head  did  angry  Heaven 
Pour  such  a  storm  of  miseries,  as  on  thine. 

But  Agamemnon  I  behold,  our  lord,  700 

Advance  this  way  :  let  us  be  silent,  friends. 

AGAMEMNON,  HECUBA,  CHORUS. 

Aga.  Why,  Hecuba,  dost  thou  delay  to  come, 

And  place  thy  daughter  in  the  tomb  ?  For  since 
Talthybius  told  us  not  to  touch  the  virgin, 

The  sons  of  Greece  forbear,  and  touch  her  not.  70* 
I  marvel  at  thy  stay,  and  come  to  seek  thee. 

Well  is  each  mournful  honour  there  prepared, 

If  in  such  mournful  honours  aught  be  well. — 

But,  ah  !  what  lifeless  corse  before  the  tents 


28 


EURIPIDES. 


Behold  T  here  1  Some  Trojan  :  for  the  robes,  710 
That  clothe  the  limbs,  inform  me  ’/is  no  Grecian. 
Hec.  Unhappy  son !  But,  naming  thee  unhappy, 

[apart 

I  name  myself.  Alas  !  what  shall  I  do  1 
Shall  I  fall  down  at  Agamemnon’s  knees, 

Or  bear  in  silence  my  calamities  ?  715 

Aga.  Why  thus  lamentingdost  thou  turn  from  me  ? 
What  hath  been  done  1  tell  me  :  what  body  this  ? 
Hec.  But  should  he  treat  me  as  a  slave,  a  foe, 

[apart 

And  spurn  me,  I  should  add  to  my  afflictions. 

Aga.  Not  mine  the  spirit  of  prophecy,  untaught 
To  trace  the  silent  workings  of  thy  mind.  721 
Hec.  Rather  misdeem  1  not  his  thoughts  un¬ 
friendly,  [apart 

Who  harbours  not  to  me  unfriendly  thought! 

Aga.  Hast  thou  a  wish  I  should  not  know  these 
things ? 

Be  satisfied  ;  I  have  no  wish  to  know  them.  725 
Hec.  Without  him  I  cannot  revenge  my  children  : 
Why  then  deliberate ?  I  must  be  bold,  [apart 

Whether  success  attends  me,  or  repulse. — 

0  royal  Agamemnon,  at  thy  knees 
Suppliant  I  fall,  and  grasp  thy  conquering  hand.  730 
Aga.  What  thy  request?  If  freedom  to  thine  age, 
That  grace  without  reluctance  may  be  granted. 

Hec.  Not  freedom,  but  revenge ;  revenge  on  base¬ 
ness  : 

Grant  me  revenge,  and  let  me  die  a  slave. 

Aga.  In  what  high  charge  wouldst  thou  engage  my 
aid?  735 

Hec.  In  nothing  that  thy  thoughts  suggest,  O 
king. 

Seest  thou  this  corse,  o’er  which  I  drop  the  tear  ? 
Aga.  I  see  it ;  nor  from  thence  thy  purport  learn. 
Hec.  He  was  my  son. 

Aga.  Thy  son,  unhappy  lady  ? 

Hec.  But  not  of  those  who  died  when  Ilium  fell. 


HECUBA. 


29 


Aga.  Hadst  thou  another,  lady,  those  beside  1  741 
Hec.  I  had;  but  what  avail’d  it  1  him  thou  seest. 
Aga.  Where,  when  the  city  fell,  chanced  he  to  be  1 
H  ec.  His  father’s  tender  fears  sent  him  from  Troy. 
Aga.  Whither,  he  only  of  thy  sons  removed  1  745 
Hec.  To  this  land,  where  his  breathless  corse  was 
found. 

Aga.  Sent  to  the  king,  to  Polymestor  sent  ! 

Hec.  And  sent  with  treasures  of  destructive  gold. 
Aga.  By  whom  then  dead,  or  by  what  cruel  fate) 
H  ec.  By  whom,  but  this  inhospitable  Thracian!  750 
Aga.  Inhuman,  all  on  fire  to  seize  the  gold  ! 

Hec.  Ev’n  so,  soon  as  he  knew  our  ruin’d  state. 
Aga.  Where  didst  thou  find  the  body,  or  who 
brought  it  ? 

Hec.  She  found  him  lying  on  the  sea-beat  shore. 
Aga.  By  search  discover’d,  or  by  accident  ?  755 

Hec.  Charged  with  the  laverfor  Polyxena. 

Aga.  By  his  protector  murder’d  and  cast  out ! 
Hec.  Thus  gash’d,  and  thrown  to  float  upon  the 
wave. 

Aga.  Unhappy  thou,  unbounded  are  thy  woes ! 
Hec.  All  woes  are  mine  :  affliction  hath  no  more. 
Aga.  Alas!  was  ever  woman  born  so  wretched!  761 
Hec.  Never,  indeed,  not  Misery  herself. 

But  for  what  cause  thus  at  thy  knees  I  fall, 

Now  hear :  if  justly  I  endure  these  ills, 

And  such  thy  thought,  patient  I  will  endure  them : 

If  not,  avenge  me  of  this  impious  man,  766 

Who,  of  the  gods  above  or  gods  beneath 
Reckless,  hath  done  a  most  unholy  deed, 

Oft  at  my  hospitable  board  received, 

And  number’d  ’mong  the  foremost  of  my  friends  : 
Thus  graced,  with  fell  intent  he  slew  my  son  ;  771 

Nor,  when  the  deed  was  done,  deign’d  to  entomb 
The  dead,  but  flung  him  weltering  on  the  wave. 

But  we  are  slaves,  but  we  perchance  are  weak ; 

Yet  the  bless’d  gods  are  strong,  the  law  is  strong  775 
Which  rules  ev’n  them  ;  for  by  the  law  we  judge 

C  2 


30 


EURIPIDES. 


That  there  are  gods,  and  form  our  lives,  the  bounds 
Of  justice  and  injustice  mark’d  distinct. 

This  law  looks  up  to  thee :  if  disregarded, 

If  he  escapes  its  vengeance,  whose  bold  hand  780 
Inhospitably  stabs  his  guest,  or  dares 
Pollute  the  sacred  ordinance  of  Heaven, 

There  is  no  justice  in  the  affhirs  of  men. 

Deem  these  deeds  base,  then,  reverence  my  woes, 
Have  pity  on  me,  as  a  picture  view  785 

The  living  portrait  of  my  miseries. 

Erewhile  1  was  a  queen,  but  now  thy  slave ; 
Erewhile  bless’d  in  my  children,  childless  now 
In  my  old  age,  abandon’d,  outcast,  wretched. 

Ah,  whither  dost  thou  turn  thy  backward  step  1  790 
Suing,  shall  I  reap  nothing  but  repulse  1 
Why  should  poor  mortals  with  incessant  care 
Each  unavailing  science  strive  to  attain, 

And  slight,  as  nothing  worth,  divine  Persuasion, 
Whose  powerful  charms  command  the  hearts  of  men, 
And  bend  them  unreluctant  to  her  will  1  796 

Who  then  may  henceforth  hope  his  state  may 
flourish  1 

Of  all  my  sons  (and  who  could  boast  such  sons  1) 
Not  one  is  left ;  myself  in  bonds,  and  led 
To  base  and  ignominious  servitude,  800 

The  smoke  of  Troy  yet  mounting  to  the  skies. 

In  vain  perchance  the  argument  of  love 
Is  urged ;  yet  I  will  urge  it :  by  thy  side 
My  daughter,  the  divine  Cassandra,  lies. 

For  all  thy  nights  of  love,  thy  fond  embraces,  805 
Tell  me,  hath  she  no  interest  in  thy  heart, 

No  recompense  ;  and  I,  through  her,  no  grace  ? 
From  the  sweet  shades  of  night,  friendly  to  love, 
And  from  love’s  joys,  much  grace  is  wont  to  spring. 
Now  hear  me,  king :  seest  thou  this  breathless  body  ? 
A  favour  there  is  by  affinity,  811 

A  favour  to  thy  love. — Yet  one  thing  more. 

O,  that  by  some  nice  art,  or  by  some  god, 

My  arms,  my  hands,  my  hair,  my  feet  had  voice ; 


HECUBA. 


31 

815 


That  each  part,  vocal  with  united  prayers, 

Might  supplicate,  implore,  importune  thee  ! 

Imperial  lord,  illustrious  light  of  Greece, 

Let  me  prevail :  give  me  thine  hand  ;  avenge  me  ! 

A  wretch  indeed,  an  outcast;  yet  avenge  me! 

The  cause  of  justice  is  the  good  man’s  care,  820 
And  always  to  requite  the  villain’s  deeds. 

Cho.  How  wonderful  the  events  of  human  life, 

Its  laws  determined  by  necessity  ; 

Changing  the  sternest  foe  to  a  kind  friend, 

And  the  kind  friend  to  a  malignant  foe  !  825 

Aga.  Thee,  Hecuba,  thy  son,  and  thy  misfortunes 
I  pity,  nor  reject  thy  suppliant  hand ; 

And  in  the  cause  of  justice  and  the  gods, 

Wish  to  avenge  thee  on  this  impious  Thracian ; 
Could  I  appear  studious  of  good  to  thee,  830 

Without  surmise  that  for  Cassandra’s  sake 
I  let  my  vengeance  loose,  and  crush  the  tyrant. 
Hence  anxious  fears  rush  thronging  on  my  mind : 
This  man  the  army  deems  a  friend,  the  dead 
A  foe :  though  dear  to  thee,  yet  this  fond  love  835 
Is  private,  to  the  troops  no  common  care. 

Consider  then ;  thou  hast  my  will,  my  wish 
To  favour  thee,  to  yield  thee  ready  aid, 

But  slow,  should  Greece  with  taunting  voice  revile 
me. 

Hec.  Vain  is  the  boast  of  liberty  in  man  :  840 

A  slave  to  fortune,  or  a  slave  to  wealth, 

Or  by  the  people  or  the  laws  restrain’d, 

He  dares  not  act  the  dictates  of  his  will 
But  since  too  much  thy  fears  incline  to  heed 
The  multitude,  I  free  thee  from  that  fear.  845 

If  with  revenge  this  murderer  I  pursue, 

Not  thy  concurrence,  but  consent  I  ask. 

When  the  barbarian  feels,  what  he  shall  feel, 

My  vengeance, — should  the  Greeks  tumultuous  rise 
In  aid,  restrain  them,  nor  appear  to  act  850 

As  favouring  me :  what  else  the  affair  requires, 

Be  confident,  I  well  shall  execute. 


32 


EURIPIDES. 


Aga.  But  how  !  What  wilt  thou  do  !  Infirm  with 
age, 

Grasp  in  thy  hand  the  sword,  and  stab  the  tyrant  1 
Or  work  thy  will  with  poisons  !  W  ith  what  aid,  855 
What  hand!  Or  whence  wilt  thou  procure  thee 
friends  ! 

Hec.  Within  these  tents  are  many  Trojan  dames. 
Aga.  The  captives,  say’st  thou,  prizes  of  the 
Greeks  ? 

Hec.  With  these  will  I  revenge  this  bloody  deed. 
Aga.  How  shall  weak  women  over  men  prevail  ! 
Hec.  Numbers  are  strong;  add  stratagem,  resist¬ 
less.  861 

Aga.  Yet  like  I  not  this  female  fellowship. 

Hec.  Were  not  Ajgyptus’  sons  by  women  slain, 
The  men  of  Lemnos  all  extirpated! 

But  leave  me  to  conduct  this  enterprise  :  865 

Only  permit  this  female  slave  to  pass 
Safe  through  the  army. — Go  thou  to  the  Thracian  ; 
Tell  him,  that  Hecuba,  once  queen  of  Troy, 

On  matters,  that  no  less  of  good  to  him 
Import  than  me,  would  see  him  and  his  sons  :  870 

It  is  of  moment  they  should  hear  my  words. — 
Awhile,  O  king!  the  mournful  rites  forbear 
For  my  Polyxena,  my  late  slain  daughter ; 

That  on  one  pile  the  brother  and  the  sister, 

To  me  a  double  grief,  may  blaze  together,  875 
And  mix  their  ashes  in  one  common  grave. 

Aga.  Then  be  it  so  ;  for  could  the  army  sail, 

My  power  could  not  indulge  thy  fond  request : 

But  since  the  god  breathes  not  the  favouring  gales, 
We  must  perforce  await  a  prosperous  voyage.  880 
Success  attend  thee  !  for  the  general  good 
Of  individuals  and  of  states  requires 
That  vengeance  overtake  the  unrighteous  deed, 

And  Virtue  triumph  in  her  just  reward. 


HECUBA. 


33 


HECUBA,  CHORUS. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I. 

No  more,  imperial  Troy,  no  more  885 

Shall  Fame  exalt  thy  matchless  power, 

And  hail  thy  rampired  height. 

From  Greece  the  frowning  tempest  came, 

And,  arm’d  with  war’s  destructive  flame, 

Roll’d  its  tremendous  might.  890 

Thy  regal  head  with  turrets  crown’d, 

Reft  of  its  honours,  on  the  ground 
Lies  low  ;  and  smoke  and  gore  distain 
The  blasted  glories  of  thy  golden  reign. 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

It  was  the  still,  the  midnight  hour,  895 

Embalm’d  with  sweet  sleep’s  lenient  power, 
When  Ruin  urged  its  way : 

From  jocund  song  and  mirthful  feast, 

On  my  chaste  bed  retired  to  rest, 

My  lord,  my  husband  lay :  900 

Secure  of  war,  high  hung  his  spear, 

Nor  did  his  thoughts  suggest  a  fear, 

That  the  proud  foe,  fierce  to  destroy, 

Insulting  trod  the  streets  of  vanquish’d  Troy. 

STROPHE  II. 

Before  the  mirror’s  golden  round  905 

Curious  my  braided  hair  I  bound, 

Adjusted  for  the  night ; 

And  now,  disrobed,  for  rest  prepared : 

Sudden  tumultuous  cries  are  heard, 

And  shrieks  of  wild  affright :  910 

Grecians  to  Grecians  shouting  call, 

“  Now  let  the  haughty  city  fall ; 

In  dust  her  towers,  her  rampires  lay, 

And  bear  triumphant  her  rich  spoils  away.” 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

In  one  slight  robe  my  nuptial  bed,  915 

Loose  as  a  Spartan  maid,  I  fled, 

And  sought  Diana’s  shrine. 


34 


EURIPIDES. 


Diana’s  shrine  I  sought  in  vain  : 

’Twas  mine  to  see  my  husband  slain, 

To  mourn  in  chains  was  mine.  999 

From  my  war-wasted  country  torn, 

And  o’er  the  swelling  billows  borne, 

To  Troy  I  cast  a  distant  look, 

And  vital  warmth  my  fainting  limbs  forsook. 

EPODE. 

In  all  the  anguish  of  despair,  925 

I  pour  my  curses  on  the  fatal  fair  : 

Bright  sister  of  the  twin-born  stars  of  Jove, 
Cursed  be  thy  charms ;  cursed  be  thy  love, 
Shepherd  of  Ida  :  your  unhallow’d  flame, 

That  not  from  Hymen,  but  the  Furies  came  ;  930 

And,  raging  with  resistless  sway, 

Spread  desolation  o’er  the  land. 

May  Ruin’s  ruthless  hand 
Vindictive  seize  thee  on  thy  way ! 

May  the  storm  burst,  the  wild  waves  round  thee 
roar,  935 

And  never  mayst  thou  see  thy  country  more ! 

POLYMESTOR,  HECUBA,  CHORUS. 

Pol.  The  memory  of  my  friend,  the  royal  Priam, 
The  sight  of  thee,  much  honour’d  Hecuba, 

Fills  my  sad  eyes  with  tears,  deploring  thee, 

Thy  ruin’d  city,  and  thy  late  slain  daughter.  940 
How  mutable  our  state  !  nor  greatness  stands, 

Nor  glory,  in  its  splendid  height  secure. 

These  are  your  works,  ye  gods !  these  changes 
fraught 

With  horrible  confusion,  mingled  thus, 

That  we  through  ignorance  might  worship  you.  945 
But  plaints  avail  not,  nor  have  power  to  heal 
The  immedicable  wounds  of  past  misfortunes. 

Let  me  obtain  forgiveness,  that  thus  late 
I  visit  thee :  occasions  drew  me  far, 

Ere  thy  arrival  to  the  inland  parts  950 

Of  Thrace ;  return’d,  I  slack’d  not  to  salute  thee, 


HECUBA. 


35 


And  on  my  way  met  this  thy  messenger : 

Why  sent,  from  thy  own  mouth  I  wish  to  learn. 

Hec.  Confounded  in  thy  presence,  and  abash’d, 

I  stand,  0  king,  sunk  to  this  abject  state.  955 

Thus  to  appear  before  thee,  who  hast  seen 
My  greatness,  to  appear  degraded,  fallen 
Thus  low,  with  shame  o’erwhelms  me,  to  the  ground 
Fixes  my  eyes,  that  dare  not  look  on  thee, 

Dare  not  behold  thy  face  :  impute  not  this  960 
To  hate  of  thee,  but  to  that  grave  reserve, 

That  female  modesty,  whose  decent  laws 
Allow  us  not  the  free  view  of  your  sex. 

Pol.  No  marvel.  But  in  what  dost  thou  require 
My  aid  1  Or  wherefore  hast  thou  sent  to  call  me  1 

Hec.  Something  in  private,  that  concerns  my¬ 
self,  966 

To  thee  and  to  thy  sons  I  wish  to  impart. 

Bid  thine  attendants  from  these  tents  retire. 

Pol.  Retire  :  this  solitude  assures  me  safe. 
Friendly  to  us  art  thou,  friendly  to  me  970 

The  Grecian  troops.  Now  say  wherein  my  power 
To  thy  unhappy  state  may  minister 
Relief  or  ease  :  warm  is  my  wish  to  serve  thee. 

Hec.  But  tell  me  first,  my  son,  my  Polydore, 
Committed  by  his  father’s  hand  and  mine  975 

To  thee  and  thy  good  faith,  is  he  alive  1 

Pol.  In  him  at  least  is  fortune  kind  to  thee. 

Hec.  Honour  is  in  thy  words,  worthy  thyself. 

Pol.  Is  there  aught  else  which  thou  wouldst  wish 
to  know  1 

Hec.  And  doth  my  child  remember  his  poor 
mother  1  980 

Pol.  He  doth,  and  wish’d  to  come  in  secret  to 
thee. 

Hec.  Is  the  gold  safe,  which  he  from  Troy  brought 
with  him  1 

Pol.  Safe  is  the  treasure,  in  my  house  preserved. 

Hec.  Preserve  it,  then,  nor  covet  the  rich  prize. 

Pol.  That  be  far  from  me,  in  my  own  wealth 
bless’d.  985 


36 


EURIPIDES. 


Hec.  Know’st  thou  what  I  would  tell  thee  and  th y 
sons  1 

Pol.  I  know  not,  till  thy  words  declare  it  to  me. 

Hec.  Be  my  son  loved  as  thou  art  loved  by  me. 

Pol.  What  is  it  that  my  sons  and  I  must  know  ? 

Hec.  The  old  buried  treasures  of  the  house  of 
Priam.  990 

Pol.  Is  it  thy  wish  to  inform  thy  son  of  these  ? 

Hec.  It  is,  through  thee ;  for  sacred  is  thy 
faith. 

Pol.  But  why  the  presence  of  my  sons  required  1 

Hec.  Better,  lest  death  prevent  thee,  they  should 
know  it. 

Pol.  Well  hast  thou  said,  and  with  more  wisdom 
judged.  995 

Hec.  Remember’st  thou  in  Troy  Minerva’s  fane  ? 

Pol.  Is  the  gold  there  1  What  sign  directs  the 
search  1 

Hec.  A  black  stone  rises  high,  and  marks  the 
place. 

Pol.  Touching  things  there  hast  thou  aught  else 
to  tell  me  1 

Hec.  To  guard  the  treasures,  which  I  brought 

with  me.  1000 

Pol.  Where  these  ?  within  thy  robes  ?  or  how 
conceal’d  ? 

Hec.  Within  these  tents,  amid  the  heaps  and 

spoils. 

Pol.  What,  in  these  tents,  the  Grecians’  naial 
camp? 

Hec.  The  captive  dames  of  Troy  have  tents  apart. 

Pol.  But  are  they  safe  ?  Is  there  no  soldier  in 
them  ?  1005 

Hec.  None,  not  a  single  Greek,  but  we  alone. 
While  they  with  eager  haste  unfurl  their  sails, 

And  every  anxious  thought  is  bent  on  Greece, 

Enter ;  that,  having  done  what  need  requires, 

Thou  mayst  again  return  with  these  thy  sons,  1010 
Where  thou  hast  hospitably  lodged  my  son. 


HECUBA.  37 

Sem.  Not  yet,  thou  hast  not  yet  received  thy 
meed; 

But  with  tempestuous  speed 

Shall  vengeance  roll  thee  in  the  gulf  profound, 

The  hoarse  waves  roaring  round  ;  1015 

Fill  thy  sad  soul  with  wild  affright, 

Then  plunge  thee  in  eternal  night. 

This,  Justice,  is  thy  stern  decree, 

And  never  shall  the  destined  head  go  free. 

Dreadful,  dreadful  ills  await ;  1020 

Bright  Hope  smiling  smoothes  thy  way, 

But  fallacious  leads  to  fate, 

And  leaves  thy  life  to  unwarlike  hands  a  prey. 

POLYMESTOR,  HECUBA,  SEMICHORUS. 

Pol.  0  hideous !  dark,  deprived  of  sight,  blind* 
blind !  [within. 

Sem.  Heard  ye  the  clamours  of  the  Thracian, 
friends'?  1025 

Pol.  My  sons,  0  horror!  they  have  slain  my  sons. 
Sem.  Some  dreadful  deed  is  done  within  the  tent. 
Pol.  With  all  your  swiftness  you  shall  not 
escape : 

I’ll  dash  the  tent  down,  crush  you  in  your  holes. 
Sem.  See,  what  a  weight  his  strong  hand  heaves 
to  throw!  1030 

Shall  we  rush  on  him,  since  the  occasion  calls  us, 

To  succour  Hecuba,  and  aid  our  friends? 

Hec.  Dash  it  to  pieces,  spare  not,  rend  the  doors  s 

[coming  forth. 

Yet  shalt  thou  not  replace  light  in  thine  eyes, 

Nor  see  thy  sons  alive,  whom  I  have  slain.  1035 
Sem.  Hast  thou  surprised,  hast  thou  o’erpower’d 
the  Thracian  ? 

Say,  lady,  hast  thou  done  the  appointed  deed  ? 

Hec.  Soon  shalt  thou  see  him  here  before  the  tent ; 
Blind,  with  blind  steps  wheeling  his  oblique  path. 
His  sons  are  slain,  both  slain,  the  Trojan  dames  1040 
Assisting  my  revenge,  which  now  he  feels. 

Eurip.  Vol.  III. — D 


38 


EURIPIDES. 


See,  he  advances :  distant  I  withdraw, 

Shunning  the  violence  of  his  boisterous  rage. 

Pol.  O  horrible !  [ coming  forth. 

Where  shall  I  go  1  where  stand  1  where  steer  my 
way?  1045 

Prone,  like  a  mountain  beast,  shall  my  hands  learn 
The  task  of  feet  ?  Is  this  my  course,  or  this, 

That  I  may  seize  these  murderous  dames  of  Troy, 
Who  thus  have  ruin’d  me  ?  Pernicious  fiends, 

Ye  Phrygians,  curses  on  you !  in  what  hole  1050 
Hide  ye  your  trembling  heads  ?  O  sun,  couldst  thou 
Heal  these  dark,  bleeding  orbs,  relume  their  light ! — 
Hist !  hist !  I  hear  the  soft  tread  of  these  women  : 
How  then  direct  my  steps  to  rush  on  them, 

To  tear  the  savages,  to  rend  them  piecemeal,  1055 
And  glut  my  vengeance  for  the  wrongs  they’ve  done 
me  ? 

Ah,  whither  am  I  borne,  leaving  my  sons 
By  these  infernal  furies  to  be  torn, 

And  piecemeal  on  the  mountains  cast,  to  dogs, 

To  ravenous  dogs,  a  mangled,  bleeding  prey?  1060 
Where  shall  I  stand  ?  where  turn  ?  where  point  my 
steps  ? 

For,  as  a  ship  with  all  its  cables  loose, 

Its  sails  all  streaming  to  the  wind,  I  drive, 

To  guard  my  sons  to  that  destructive  place,  1064 
Where  murder’d  on  the  ensanguined  ground  they  lie. 

Cho.  Wretch !  what  a  load  of  misery  on  thee  lies, 
Thy  deeds  of  baseness  by  the  avenging  gods 
With  deeds  of  horror  on  thy  head  repaid  ! 

Pol.  What,  ho !  my  Thracians,  ho !  To  arms, 
my  friends, 

Bestride  your  fiery  steeds,  couch  your  strong  spears ; 
Haste  to  my  aid,  ye  valiant  sons  of  Mars !  1071 

Ye  Grecians,  ho !  Ye  sons  of  Atreus,  ho  ! 

Halloo !  halloo !  Again  I  call,  halloo ! 

Quick,  I  conjure  you  by  the  gods,  haste,  come. 

Hear  ye  my  voice  ?  Comes  no  man  to  my  aid  1  1075 
Why  are  you  slow  1  These  women  have  destroy’d 
me, 


HECUBA. 


39 


These  captive  women.  0,  ’tis  horrible, 

Horrible  what  I  suffer !  Ruin,  ruin ! 

Ah,  which  way  shall  I  turn  me  ?  whither  go  ? 

Shall  I  take  wing,  and  with  a  lofty  flight  1080 

Soar  through  the  ethereal  sky,  to  the  high  man¬ 
sions 

Where  Sirius  and  Orion  from  their  eyes 
Flash  the  far-beaming  blaze  of  fiery  light  1 
Or,  plunging  through  the  darksome  depths  of  hell, 
Seek  a  sad  refuge,  a  sad  harbour  there  1  1085 

Cho.  When  ills  oppress  beyond  our  power  to  bear, 
No  wonder  if  we  wish  relief  in  death. 

AGAMEMNON,  POLYMESTOR,  HECUBA,  CHORUS. 

Aga.  Whence  this  rude  clamour,  whose  tumultu¬ 
ous  noise 

Awakes  the  mountain  echo,  and  disturbs  1089 
Our  camp  ?  But  that  we  know  the  Phrygian  towers 
Are  fallen  beneath  the  conquering  arms  of  Greece, 
These  hideous  outcries  might  occasion  fear. 

Pol.  My  royal  friend,  leader  of  Greece,  I  know 
thee, 

Hearing  thy  voice.  Seest  thou  what  I  suffer  ?  1094 
Aga.  Ah,  wretched  Polymestor,  what  rude  hand 
Hath  done  this  outrage  ?  Who  thus  gored  thine 
eyes, 

And  quench’d  their  sightless  orbs  ?  Who  slew  thy 
sons'? 

Unbounded  was  his  rage  ’gainst  thee  and  thine. 

Pol.  This  ruin,  more  than  ruin,  falls  on  me 
From  Hecuba,  and  Phrygia’s  female  slaves.  1100 
Aga.  What  say’st  thou?  Hecuba,  hast  thou  done 
this  ? 

Hath  thy  bold  hand  dared  this  atrocious  deed  ? 

Pol.  Dost  thou  speak  to  her?  Is  she  near  me, 
then  ?  / 

Tell  me  where ;  guide  me  to  her,  that  my  hands 
May  seize,  rend,  mangle  all  her  bleeding  limbs.  1105 
Aga.  What  meanest  thou  ? 


40 


EURIPIDES. 


Pol.  Now,  by  the  gods,  1  pray  thee, 

Let  me  but  lay  my  raging  hand  upon  her. 

Aga.  Forbear  ;  banish  the  savage  from  thy  heart, 
A  nd  calmly  speak ;  that,  hearing  thee  and  her, 

I  may  judge  justly  why  these  ills  befell  thee.  1110 
Pol.  Then  let  me  speak.  Of  Priam’s  youngest 
sons, 

His  son  by  Hecuba  was  Polydore. 

Him  to  my  charge  his  father  sent  from  Troy, 
Presaging  from  your  arms  his  country’s  ruin. 

I  slew  the  boy  :  but  for  what  cause  I  slew  him,  1115 
With  what  sage  policy,  what  forecast,  hear. 

This  youth,  thy  foe,  might  people  Troy  again 
(Such  were  my  fears),  again  might  raise  its  walls  ; 
And  should  Greece  know  a  son  of  Priam  lived, 
’Gainst  Phrygia  their  confederate  arms  once  more 
Advancing,  in  their  march  these  fields  of  Thrace 
Might  haply  ravage  ;  and  this  region  rue,  1122 

As  now,  O  king,  the  ill  neighbourhood  of  Troy. 
When  her  son’s  death  was  known  to  Hecuba, 

With  treacherous  device  she  lured  me  hither,  1125 
Feigning  I  know  not  what  of  buried  gold, 

Treasures  concealed  in  Troy,  the  wealth  of  Priam  ; 
Then,  with  a  specious  face  of  secrecy, 

Within  the  tent  me  only  and  my  sons 

Admits  :  I,  careless,  in  the  midst  reclined  :  1130 

Around  me,  as  a  friend,  familiar  sat 

Bevies  of  Trojan  dames,  and  to  the  light 

Held  the  rich  texture  of  the  Edonian  loom, 

Praising  the  curious  tissue  of  my  robes: 

Others  admiring  view’d  my  Thracian  spear  ;  1135 

So  stripp’d  me  of  my  double  ornament. 

Such  as  were  mothers  seem’d  with  fond  regard 
To  admire  my  sons,  caress’d  them,  in  their  arms 
Alternately  received  them,  till  from  me  1139 

They  held  them  distant:  ’mid  their  blandishments, 
Suddenly  from  beneath  their  robes  drew  daggers, 
And  with  them  stab  my  sons:  me  others  seize 
With  hostile  violence,  my  hands,  my  feet 


HECUBA. 


41 


Lock’d  in  close  grasp :  if  to  protect  my  sons 
1  raised  my  head,  they  held  me  by  the  hair;  1145 
If  I  would  move  my  hands,  numbers  hung  on  them, 
And  kept  me  with  their  cumbrous  weight  confined. 
But  their  last  mischief  was  a  deed  of  horror 
Surpassing  savage ;  for  they  seize  my  eyes, 

Pierce  these  poor  bleeding  orbs,  and  quench  their 
light,  1150 

Then  vanish  through  the  tent :  I  started  fierce, 

Like  a  chafed  tiger,  and  these  murderous  hounds 
Pursue,  along  the  walls  searching  my  way, 
Battering  and  rending.  Studious  of  thy  favour, 

1  suffer  this,  and  having  slain  thy  foe,  1155 

Imperial  Agamemnon.  To  be  brief, 

If  any  in  past  times  with  severe  taunts 
Have  censured  women,  if  now  any  vents 
His  obloquies,  or  shall  hereafter  vent, 

In  one  brief  sentence  I  comprise  the  whole  : —  1160 
It  is  a  breed,  not  all  the  extended  earth, 

Nor  the  sea’s  ample  depths,  produce  the  like  : 

This  truth  he  feels  the  most  who  knows  them  best. 
Cho.  Curb  thy  intemperate  tongue,  nor  with  rude 
speech 

Without  distinction  thus  revile  the  sex.  1165 

Some  may  be  form’d  by  nature  prone  to  ill, 

But  many  are  illustrious  for  their  virtues. 

Hec.  Leader  of  Greece,  it  ill  becomes  a  man 
With  pompous  words  to  decorate  his  deeds  : 

If  he  hath  acted  well,  well  let  him  speak  ;  1170 

If  ill,  shame  on  his  tongue  ;  nor  let  him  clothe 
His  base  injustice  in  the  garb  of  virtue. 

Yet  these  are  arts,  the  versed  in  which  are  wise; 
But  in  the  end  their  wisdom  fails,  and  leaves  them 
To  perish  with  inevitable  ruin.  1175 

To  thee  this  preface.  Turn  I  now  to  him, 

To  expose  the  false  gloss  of  his  arguments. 

Say’st  thou,  that  from  redoubled  toil  to  save 
The  Grecians,  and  for  Agamemnon’s  sake, 
Thouslew’st  my  son!  Detested  monster!  know  1180 


42 


EURIPIDES. 


This  first,  that  Greece  abhors,  and  must  for  ever 
Abhor,  barbarians.  Studious,  thou  say’st,  of  favour ; 
What  favour,  that  should  prompt  thy  bloody  hand  ? 
Was  some  connubial  league  thy  wish?  By  blood 
Wast  thou  allied  ?  Or  what  cause  canst  thou  plead  ? 
WTould  they  sail  back  and  ravage  the  fair  fields  1186 
Of  flourishing  Thrace?  Whom  canst  thou  thus 
persuade  ? 

’Twas  gold,  wouldst  thou  speak  truth,  that  slew  my 
son, 

Thy  sordid  love  of  lucre.  Tell  me  else, 

While  Troy  yet  flourished,  while  her  rampired  walls 
Defied  the  fierce  assault,  while  Priam  lived,  1191 
And  Hector’s  strong  hand  grasp’d  his  dreaded 
spear, 

Then,  why  not  then,  if  studious  of  his  favour, 

When  in  thy  house  my  son  was  lodged,  was  cher¬ 
ish’d, 

Didst  thou  not  kill  him,  or  to  the  Argive  camp  1195 
Bear  him  alive  ?  But  when  our  adverse  fate 
Obscured  our  glory,  and  the  ascending  smoke 
Show’d  thee  that  Troy  was  fallen  beneath  its  foes, 
Then  thy  cursed  hand  inhospitably  murder’d 
The  stranger  that  sought  refuge  at  thy  hearth.  1200 
Nay,  further  hear  me,  that  thy  villanous  mind 
May  more  appear  if  to  the  Greeks  a  friend, 

This  gold,  by  thy  confession  his,  not  thine, 

Thou  shouldst  have  borne  a  present  to  thy  friends 
In  want,  and  from  their  country  long  estranged.  1205 
But  hast  thou  dared  to  let  it  from  thine  hand  ? 

Is  it  not  now,  ev’n  now,  held  in  thy  house  ? 

Hadst  thou  protected,  hadst  thou  saved  my  son, 

As  honour  dictates,  great  had  been  thy  glory. 

In  adverse  hours  the  friendship  of  the  good  1210 
Shines  most ;  each  prosperous  day  commands  its 
friends. 

Or  hadst  thou  wanted,  and  his  fortune  flourish’d. 

My  son  had  been  a  mighty  treasure  to  thee. 

But  now  no  longer  hast  thou  him  a  friend  ; 


HKCUBA.  48 

Lost  is  the  enjoyment  of  the  gold,  thy  sons  1215 
Are  lost,  and  on  thy  head  these  ills  repaid 
1  tell  thee,  therefore,  shouldst  thou  favour  him, 
Thou,  Agamemnon,  wilt  appear  unjust : 

Faith,  Honour,  Justice,  Friendship,  Sanctiiy, 

Which  most  we  wish  to  serve,  he  hath  profaned: 
Favour  to  such  will  show  that  villanies  1221 

Delight.  But  we  shall  not  revile  our  lords. 

Cho.  See  with  what  force  a  just  cause  always 
pleads, 

And  pours  the  eloquent  tide  of  words  as  just ! 

Aga.  To  me  ungrateful  is  the  task  to  judge  1225 
A  stranger’s  ill  deeds ;  but  necessity 
Constrains  me :  for  to  engage,  then  to  abandon 
An  office  unperform’d,  I  deem  a  shame. 

Know,  then,  that  not  to  me,  nor  to  the  Grecians, 
Think  I  this  bloody  deed  design’d  a  favour.  1230 
To  seize  his  gold  thou  didst  it,  and  now  seekest, 

Tn  thy  distress,  to  mould  some  fair  pretext. 

Trivial  to  you  the  murder  of  a  guest 
May  be  ;  we  Grecians  start  with  horror  back 
At  such  a  deed  of  baseness  :  can  I  then  1235 

Without  reproach  acquit  thee  of  injustice  1 
It  may  not  be.  Since  thou  hast  dared  to  do 
Dishonourable  deeds,  the  unwelcome  bear. 

Pol.  What!  from  these  wretches  shall  I  suffer 
thus, 

Defeated  by  a  woman  and  a  slave  !  1240 

Hec.  Thy  acts  of  baseness  Justice  thus  repays. 
Pol.  Ah,  wretch  !  My  sons,  my  sons  !  0,  my 

lost  sight ! 

Hec.  And  dost  thou  feel  it,  savage!  Yet  thou 
thoughtest 

1  had  no  feeling  for  my  slaughter’d  son. 

Pol.  Dost  thou  exult  in  mischiefs  thou  hast 
wrought  ?  1245 

Hec.  Avenged  on  thee,  how  can  I  but  exult! 

Pol.  Not  so,  when  soon  thee  shall  the  briny 
wave —  .'i 


44 


EURIPIDES. 


Hec.  What!  will  he  steer  me  to  the  Grecian 
coast  1 

Pol.  Close,  eddying  round  thee  from  the  high 
mast  fallen. 

Hec.  What  violence  shall  urge  this  desperate 
leap  1  1250 

Pol.  Spontaneous  shalt  thou  climb  its  utmost 
height. 

Hec.  How  climb,  unless  on  rapid  wings  upborne  1 
Pol.  Changed  to  a  dog,  thy  fierce  eyes  glaring 
fire. 

Hec.  Of  this  my  change  from  whence  art  thou 
inform’d  1 

Pol.  The  oracle  of  Thrace  foretold  us  this.  1255 
Hec.  The  ills  thou  sufFerest  did  it  not  foretell1? 
Pol.  I  had  not  by  thy  wiles  been  then  ensnared. 
Hec.  In  life  or  death  shall  I  fulfil  this  fate  1 
Pol.  In  death,  and  on  thy  tomb  thy  name  survive. 
Hec.  How  1  from  my  change  derived  1  Be  less 
abstruse.  1260 

Pol.  From  thence  derived,  a  mark  to  mariners. 
Hec.  It  moves  me  not,  since  thus  avenged  on 
thee. 

Pol.  Cassandra  too,  thy  daughter,  she  must  die, — 
Hec.  Thy  prophecies  on  thy  head !  My  soul  dis¬ 
dains  them. 

Pol.  Slain  by  his  wife,  stern  guardian  of  her 
house.  1265 

Hec.  Daughter  of  Tyndarus,  not  such  her  rage. 
Pol.  She  wields  the  axe,  the  slaughter’d  husband 
falls. 

Aga.  Dost  thou  not  rave,  and  covet  further  ills  1 
Pol.  Kill  me ;  the  bloody  bath  at  Argos  waits 
thee. 

Aga.  Hence  with  him,  slaves,  far  hence;  force 
him  away.  1270 

Pol.  What !  art  thou  gall’d  to  hear  it  1 
Aga.  v  Stop  his  mouth. 

Pol.  Stop  it ;  the  word  is  spoke. 


HECUBA. 


45 

Aga.  ~  Away  with  him ; 

Haste,  cast  the  dreamer  on  some  desert  isle ; 

There  let  him  vent  his  frantic  insolence. 

And  now,  thou  wretched  mother,  haste  thee  hence  ; 
The  funeral  rites  for  both  thy  dead  prepare.  1276 
You,  dames  of  Troy,  go  to  your  masters’  tents. 

Soft  rise  the  winds,  and  favour  our  return. 

Escaped  these  ills,  may  we  revisit  safe 
Our  native  land,  and  taste  domestic  joys !  1280 

Cho.  Go  to  the  harbour,  to  the  tents,  my  friends, 
There  to  receive  our  master’s  harsh  commands. 
Relentless  is  thy  power,  Necessity ! 


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HELENA. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS 


Helena. 

Teucer. 

Menelaus. 

Theonoe. 

Theoclymenus. 

Messengers. 

Attendants. 

Castor  and  Pollijx. 
Chorus  of  Grecian  virgins. 


\ 


N 


HELENA. 


ARGUMENT. 

Thb  celebrated  Helena,  whose  fatal  beauty  and  disloyalty  to 
her  husband  occasioned  the  destruction  of  Troy,  and  a  long 
series  of  calamities  to  Greece,  is  here  represented  as  an  in¬ 
nocent  and  injured  woman ;  a  faithful,  affectionate,  and 
generous  wife.  To  accomplish  this  object,  the  poet  repre¬ 
sents  Paris  to  have  been  deceived  by  a  phantom,  while  the 
true  Helena  was  placed  under  the  protection  of  Proteus, 
King  of  Egypt,  during  the  siege  of  Troy.  After  the  death  of 
her  guardian  the  lady  is  exposed  to  the  solicitations  of  his 
son  Theoclymenus,  who  proposes  to  make  her  his  wife ; 
she,  however,  perseveres  in  her  unwavering  attachment  to 
Menelaus,  who  opportunely  arrives  in  disguise,  and  is  re¬ 
cognised  by  his  wife,  whose  innocence  is  at  length  fully 
established.  The  reconciled  pair  now  devise  means  of 
escape,  which  is  accomplished  by  the  aid  of  Theonoe,  the 
daughter  of  Proteus,  who  is  in  danger  of  being  put  to  death 
by  her  infuriated  brother ;  when  Castor  and  Pollux  appear, 
and  by  their  intervention  save  her  life,  and  appease  the  anger 
of  the  monarch. — [The  scene  is  in  the  island  of  Pharos,  be¬ 
side  the  tomb  of  Proteus,  and  before  the  palace  of  Theocly¬ 
menus.] 


HELENA. 

These  are  the  streams  of  Nile,  the  joy  of  nymphs 
Glowing  with  beauty’s  radiance  ;  he  his  floods, 

2  Anaxagorus  ascribed  the  swelling  of  the  Nile  to  the  melting 
of  the  snow  in  Ethiopia ;  which  opinion  his  scholar  Euripides 
followed. 

Eurip.  Yol  III  — E 


60 


EURIPIDES. 


Swell’d  with  the  melted  snow,  o’er  Egypt’s  plain 
Irriguous  pours,  to  fertilize  her  fields, 

The  ethereal  rain  supplying.  Of  these  realms  6 
Proteus  was  lord,  and,  while  he  lived,  his  seat 
Fix’d  in  the  isle  of  Pharos,  and  was  king 
Of  Egypt.  Of  the  Nereid  train  a  nymph 
He  wedded,  Psamathe,  before  betrothed 
To  jEoIus  :  by  her  he  had  a  son  10 

Named  Theoclymenus,  for  that  his  life 
He  pass’d  the  gods  revering :  and  his  bed 
Was  with  one  daughter  bless’d,  of  form  divine, 

Her  mother’s  pride,  and  in  her  infant  age 
Eidothea  named  ;  but  when  advancing  years  15 
Matured  her  wisdom,  she  hy  all  is  call’d 
Theonoe,  for  things  divine  she  knew, 

Present  and  future  :  this  enlightening  grace 
From  Nereus  she  received,  her  mother’s  sire  : 

But  I  from  Sparta  draw  my  birth,  a  realm  20 

To  glory  not  unknown,  of  royal  race, 

Daughter  of  Tyndarus  :  but  fame  reports 
That  Jove,  the  silver  plumage  of  a  swan 
Assuming,  to  my  mother  Leda’s  breast, 

To  effect  his  fraudful  purpose,  wing’d  his  flight  25 
From  the  pursuing  eagle,  if  in  this 
Report  speaks  truth,  and  Helena  my  name. 

The  ills  which  1  have  suffer’d,  let  me  speak. 

Three  rival  goddesses  to  Paris  came 

Amid  the  umbrageous  groves  of  Ida,  Juno,  30 

And  Venus,  and  the  virgin  sprung  from  Jove, 

7  “  Against  the  city  (Alexandria)  stands  the  island  of  Pharus, 
which  was  joined  to  the  continent  by  a  bridge  ;  in  a  promontory 
thereof,  on  a  rocke  environed  by  the  sea,  Philadelphus  caused  a 
tower  to  be  built  of  a  wonderful  height ;  ascended  by  degrees, 
and  having  many  lanterns  at  the  top,  wherein  lights  burned 
nightly  for  a  direction  to  such  as  sailed  by  sea  :  for  the  coasts 
upon  both  sides,  being  rockie,  low,  and  harbourlesse,  could  not 
otherwise  be  approached  without  imminent  danger.  This  had 
the  repute  of  the  world’s  seventh  wonder,  named  after  the  name 
of  the  island.  At  this  day,  a  general  name  for  such  as  serve  to 
that  purpose.” — Sandys . 


HELENA. 

Willing  his  judgment  should  decide  the  prize 
Of  beauteous  form  :  but  Venus  to  his  arms 
My  beauty  (for  what  most  is  beauteous  oft 
Is  most  unhappy)  promised,  and  receives 
The  prize.  To  Sparta  from  his  pastoral  huts 
The  Ntaean  Paris  came,  as  to  obtain 
My  bed  ;  but  Juno,  for  her  slighted  form 
Indignant,  frustrates  his  fond  hope,  and  gives 
Not  me,  but  what  resembling  me  she  framed, 

A  breathing  image  of  ethereal  air, 

To  royal  Priam’s  son  ;  and  me  he  deem’d 
(Delusive  thought !)  his  prize,  who  ne’er  was  his. 
But  from  these  ills  the  purposes  of  Jove 
Accomplish’d  their  event ;  for  ’twixt  the  realms  45 
Of  Greece  and  wretched  Phrygia  wasteful  war 
He  kindled,  of  the  numbers  of  mankind 
To  ease  the  burden’d  earth,  and  raise  to  fame 
The  bravest  of  the  Grecians.  I  was  made, — 

Not  I, — my  name  was  made  the  prize  of  war  50 
’Twixt  the  contending  spears  of  Troy  and  Greece. 
But  me  receiving  in  the  air  that  wreathed 
Around  me,  in  a  cloud  conceal’d  (for  Jove 
Was  not  regardless  of  me)  to  the  house 
Of  Proteus  Hermes  bore  me,  for  he  deem’d  55 
Of  mortals  him  the  justest,  that  the  bed 
Of  Menelaus  unstain’d  I  might  preserve ; 

And  here  I  am  :  but  my  unhappy  lord 
Chases  the  spoiler,  and  with  troops  in  arms 
Vengeful  advances  to  the  towers  of  Troy  ;  60 

And  for  my  sake  beside  Scamander’s  streams 
Have  many  died  ;  and  I,  sustaining  all 
The  hateful  charge,  with  curses  on  my  head, 

Am  deem’d  a  wanton,  faithless  to  my  lord, 

And  to  have  kindled  this  great  war  for  Greece.  65 
Why  bear  I  then  to  live  ?  I  heard  the  god 
Declaring  that  once  more  the  illustrious  realms 
Of  Sparta  I  should  visit,  with  my  lord 
There  to  reside,  this  knowing,  that  to  Troy 
I  never  came :  such  the  prophetic  word  70 


61 

35 

*  40 


52 


EURIPIDES. 


Of  Hermes,  that  no  stain  my  bed  receive. 

While  Proteus  view’d  the  beams  of  this  bright  sup, 
I  from  constraint  was  safe  ;  but  when  he  lay 
In  the  dark  tomb,  the  son  of  the  deceased 
To  wed  me  urges  with  impetuous  warmth :  75 

But  I,  my  former  husband  honouring, 

A  suppliant  at  this  tomb  of  Proteus  fall 
That  he  would  guard  my  bed;  that  if  through 
Greece 

I  bear  an  infamous  and  hated  name, 

My  person  here  may  not  receive  a  stain.  80 

TEUCER,  HELENA. 

Teu.  Who  is  the  lord  of  this  strong-rampired 
house  ? 

It  seems  the  stately  residence  of  wealth  : 

The  cornice  and  the  well-wrought  battlements 
Denote  a  royal  mansion. — 0  ye  gods, 

What  do  mine  eyes  behold  !  I  see  a  form,  85 
The  image  of  that  hated,  baleful  wretch, 

Whose  fatal  charms  on  me,  and  all  the  Greeks, 
Brought  ruin.  May  the  gods  (so  much  thy  shape 
Resembles  Helen)  hate  thee !  Were  I  not 
In  a  strange  land,  I  with  this  well-aim’d  stone  90 
Would  crush  thee  for  thy  likeness  to  that  pest, 

The  Spartan  born  of  Jove,  that  thou  shouldst  die. 

Hel.  Why,  unkind  stranger,  hold  me  in  disdain! 
Why  hate  me  for  the  mischiefs  wrought  by  her  ? 

Teu.  I  have  offended,  lady,  and  given  way,  95 
More  than  I  ought,  to  anger  ;  for  all  Greece 
The  Jove-born  Helen  in  abhorrence  holds  : 

Let  me  obtain  forgiveness  for  my  words. 

Hel.  Who  art  thou  !  In  this  country  whence  ar¬ 
rived  1 

Teu.  I,  lady,  of  the  unhappy  Greeks  am  one.  100 
Hel.  No  marvel,  then,  if  Helena  thou  hate. 

77  Tombs,  as  well  as  altars,  were  held  sacred ;  and  it  was 
unlawful  to  take  the  suppliant  from  them  by  force. 


HELENA.  53 

But  say,  who  art  thou  ?  whence  ?  who  gave  thee 
birth  ? 

Teu.  My  name  is  Teucer ;  Telamon  my  sire ; 

From  sea-girt  Salamis  1  drew  my  birth. 

Hel.  Why  dost  thou  tread  these  cultured  fields  of 
Nile  1  105 

Teu.  A  wandering  exile,  from  my  country  driven. 

Hel.  Unhappy  must  thou  be  :  who  drove  thee 
out  ? 

Teu.  My  father.  Who  should  more  have  been  a 
friend  1 

Hel.  What  cause  1  for  misery  attends  the  deed. 

Teu.  For  that  my  brother,  Ajax,  died  at  Troy.  1 10 

Hel.  How  died  he  1  by  thy  sword  deprived  of 
life ? 

Teu.  On  his  own  sword  he  rush’d,  and  died  self- 
slain. 

Hel.  Through  madness  ?  for  naught  else  could 
urge  such  deed. 

Teu.  Achilles,  son  of  Peleus,  didst  thou  know  ? 

Hel.  A  suitor  once  of  Helena,  they  say.  115 

Teu.  His  death  a  contest  kindled  for  his  arms. 

Hel.  And  how  to  Ajax  this  the  cause  of  ill? 

Teu.  Grieved  that  another  gain’d  the  arms,  he 
died. 

Hel.  Thee  doth  the  infection  of  his  sufferings 
reach  ? 

Teu.  That  for  his  sake  with  him  I  did  not  die. 

Hel.  Stranger,  to  Troy’s  famed  towers  didst  thou 
advance  ?  121 

Teu.  With  Greece  I  storm’d  them,  and  myself  am 
fallen. 

Hel.  Is  Troy  then  fallen,  with  hostile  flames  con¬ 
sumed? 

Teu.  That  of  her  rampires  not  a  trace  remains. 

Hel.  Ill-fated  Helena,  Troy  falls  for  thee.  125 

Teu.  And  Greece  too  bleeds :  such  dreadful  ills 
are  wrought.  ’ 

Hel.  How  long  in  ashes  hath  the  city  sunk  ? 

£  2 


54 


EURIPIDES. 


Teu.  Seven  fruitful  years  have  wellnigh  roll’d 
their  course. 

Hel.  How  long  sat  Greece  before  the  walls  of 
Troy  ? 

Teu.  The  moon  for  ten  long  years  increased  and 
waned.  130 

Hel.  Seized  you  amid  the  spoil  the  Spartan 
dame? 

Teu.  Her  Menelaus  dragg’d  by  the  locks  away. 

Hel.  Saw’st  thou  the  wretch,  or  speak’st  thou  by 
report  ? 

Teu.  Plain  as  I  see  thee,  lady,  her  I  saw. 

Hel.  Take  heed,  lest  some  illusion  from  the 
gods —  135 

Teu.  Of  something  else  discourse  ;  of  her  no 
more. 

Hel.  Are  you  of  this  opinion  so  assured? 

Teu.  I  saw  her  with  these  eyes,  my  mind  now 
sees  her. 

Hel.  Return’d,  is  she  with  Menelaus  at  home  ? 

Teu.  Neither  at  Argos,  nor  by  Sparta’s  streams. 

Hel.  Ah,  this  is  ill  to  whom  thou  speak’st  the 
ill.  '  '  141 

Teu.  He  with  his  wife,  so  fame  reports,  is  lost. 

Hel.  Sail’d  you  not  all  at  the  same  time  for 
Greece  ? 

Teu.  We  did:  but  wide  a  storm  dispersed  the 
fleet. 

Hel.  Driven  o’er  the  billows  of  what  swelling 
deep  ?  145 

Teu.  Passing  the  middle  of  the  Aegean  sea. 

Hel.  Knows  none  that  safely  Menelaus  arrived  ? 

Teu.  None  :  but  through  Greece  report  proclaims 
his  death. 

Hel.  Unhappy  me!  But  lives  the  Thestian  dame  ? 

Teu.  Of  Leda  is  thy  question  ?  She  is  dead.  150 

Hel.  With  sorrow  sunk  for  Helena’s  ill  fame  ? 

Teu.  Her  noble  hands  the  fatal  noose  prepared. 

Hel.  The  sons  of  Tyndarus,  are  they  alive  ? 


HELENA.  55 

Teu.  Dead,  and  not  dead:  of  them  are  two  re¬ 
ports. 

Hel.  Tell  me  the  best.  Ah  me,  what  woes  are 
mine !  155 

Teu.  Fame  says  that,  stars  resembling,  they  are 
gods. 

Hel.  This  to  the  ear  is  grateful :  what  the  other  1 
Teu.  That,  for  their  sister’s  infamy,  they  died 
By  their  own  hands.  Of  this  enough  ;  for  twice 
I  would  not  sigh.  But  to  this  royal  house  160 

I  come,  the  fate-foretelling  nymph  to  see, 

Theonoe  :  in  this  a  stranger  aid, 

That  from  her  voice  oracular  1  may  learn 
To  speed  my  flying  sails  across  the  main 
To  sea-girt  Cyprus,  where  Apollo’s  voice,  165 

Given  from  his  shrine,  commanded  me  to  dwell, 
Calling  my  city  from  the  island’s  name, 

In  honour  of  my  country,  Salamis. 

Hel.  Thy  sails  with  speed  will  find  their  easy 
course. 

But  leave  this  country,  stranger;  quickly  fly,  170 
Ere  by  the  son  of  Proteus  thou  art  seen, 

The  monarch  of  the  land ;  for  absent  now 
Against  the  bleeding  savages  he  cheers 
His  dogs  of  chase  ;  for  he  to  death  devotes 
Each  Grecian  stranger  whom  he  seizes  here :  175 

But  for  what  cause  inquire  not  thou  ;  and  I 
Am  silent :  speaking,  what  should  I  avail  thee  1 
Teu.  I  thank  thee,  lady,  for  thy  courtesy ; 

And  may  the  gods  reward  thee.  Though  thou 
bearest 

The  form  of  Helena,  thou  hast  a  mind  180 

Unlike :  but  may  she  perish,  and  ne’er  reach 
The  fields  through  which  Eurotas  rolls  his  streams ! 
But  blessings,  lady,  ever  wait  on  thee. 

HELENA,  CHORUS. 

Hel.  To  what  a  piteous  state  of  mighty  wo 
Am  I  now  sunk !  To  what  desponding  strain  185 


56 


EURIPIDES. 


Shall  I  attune  my  struggling  griefs,  and  pour, 

At  each  sad  pause,  the  tear,  the  sigh,  the  groan  ? 

HELENA. 

STROPHE  L 

Ye  earth-born  virgins,  spread  the  wing; 

Hither,  ye  sister  sirens,  fly ; 

The  Libyan  reed,  the  sweet  pipe  bring,  190 
Attuned  to  mournful  melody ; 

Tears  to  my  streaming  tears  that  well ; 

And  griefs  to  my  impassion’d  griefs  that  swell. 

And  thou,  dread  empress  of  the  realms  below, 

Send  notes  attemper’d  to  my  notes  of  wo,  195 
To  Death,  to  Death  a  dismal  strain  : 

Such  now  my  anguish’d  soul  will  cheer. 
That,  pleased,  in  Pluto’s  dark  domain, 

The  Paean  to  the  dead  the  dead  may  hear. 

\  ,  'i  i 

CHORUS. 

ANTISTROPHE  I 

I  chanced,  the  azure  stream  beside,  200 

Along  its  verdant  fringe  of  reeds, 

To  spread  the  rich  vests’  purple  pride. 

And  o’er  the  grass-attired  meads, 

Warm’d  by  the  bright  sun’s  golden  rays, 

That  with  fresh  grace  their  vermeil  dies  might 
blaze :  205 

There  pity-moving  sorrow  reach’d  my  ear, 

And  every  note  breathed  anguish  and  despair : 

Such  are  the  wailing  Naiad’s  sighs, 

When  her  lost  love  the  nymph  bemoans  : 

He  roving  o’er  the  mountains  flies;  210 

Pan’s  cavern’d  rocks  re-echo  to  her  groans. 


188  It  was  not  unusual  to  adorn  the  tombs  of  the  dead  with 
images  of  the  sirens.  Helena,  standing  at  the  tomb  of  Proteus, 
may  be  supposed  to  have  these  images  before  her  eyes. 


HELENA. 


07 


* 


HELENA. 

STROPHE  II. 

Virgins  of  Greece,  borne  thence  a  prey 
By  the  barbaric  oar, 

One  from  Achaia  to  this  shore 

Hath  plough’d  the  watery  way :  215 

Griefs  to  my  griefs,  and  tears  to  tears, 

He  bears,  ah  me !  the  stranger  bears. 

Troy  hath  bow’d  her  tower’d  head, 

Sunk  beneath  the  hostile  flame  ; 

Many,  many  are  the  dead  220 

For  me,  for  me,  and  my  destructive  name. 

The  fatal  noose  hath  Leda  tied  ; 

Through  grief  at  my  disgrace,  she  died : 

While  my  loved  lord  the  ocean  braves, 

He  sinks  beneath  the  ruthless  waves.  225 
Low  in  the  tomb  is  Castor  laid, 

And  my  lost  brother  I  deplore  : 

Their  country’s  double  glory  is  no  more  ; 

Fallen,  fallen,  they  sink  among  the  dead. 

His  fiery  steed  no  more  he  reins  ;  230 

No  more  in  youthful  exercise 
Around  the  dusty  course  he  flies, 

Or  thunders  o’er  Eurota’s  sedgy  plains. 

CHORUS. 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

Ah,  lady,  what  a  life  of  woes 

Doth  fate  to  thee  assign !  235 

Thine  is  the  sigh,  the  tear  is  thine ; 

Thy  life  affliction  knows, 

Thy  hapless  life,  ev’n  from  the  hour 
Thy  mother  felt  Jove’s  fraudful  power : 

He,  conspicuous  to  the  sight,  240 

Came  a  beauteous  swan  in  show, 

Wheeling  down  the  ethereal  height, 

And  o’er  her  bosom  waved  his  wings  of  snow. 


58 


EURIPIDES. 


Is  there  an  ill  thou  hast  not  known? 

Is  there  a  suffering1  not  thine  own  ?  245 

Thy  mother  sinks  beneath  her  fate  ; 

No  joys  the  sons  of  Jove  await : 

Thine  eyes  thy  country  view  no  more. 

Through  the  wide  world  report  hath  spread 
That,  honour’d  lady,  on  a  wanton  bed 
Thou  revel’st  on  a  foreign  shore. 

Thy  lord  from  life’s  lov’d  light  is  torn  ; 

His  livid  corse  the  wild  waves  beat : 

Thou  shalt  no  more  thy  royal  seat, 

No  more  Minerva’s  brazen  dome  adorn. 

HELENA. 

EPODE. 

Was  he  some  Phrygian  swain, 

Or  one  that  drew  from  Greece  his  line, 

W'ho  hew’d  at  Troy  the  fatal  pine, 

Whence  Priam’s  son,  with  fate  his  foe, 

Built  his  tall  vessel  fraught  with  wo, 

Then  launch’d  it  on  the  main  ; 

And,  plying  his  barbaric  oar, 

By  my  unhappy  beauty  led, 

Ambitious  to  obtain  my  bed, 

Plough’d  his  bold  way  to  Sparta’s  shore?  265 
This,  wily  Venus,  was  thy  dreadful  deed, 

Devoting  Greece  and  Troy  to  bleed. 

Ah  me,  the  starting  tear ! 

But  Juno  from  her  golden  throne 

Sent  the  wing’d  son  of  Maia  down  ;  270 

Who,  as  I  crop  the  blooming  rose, 

And  in  my  folded  robe  enclose, 

The  grateful  sweets  to  bear 
To  Pallas  in  her  brazen  shrine, 

Me  through  the  yielding  air  convey’d,  275 
And  in  this  unblet  country  laid, 

A  contest  (such  the  will  divine), 

255  This  temple  was  erected  on  the  highest  eminence  in 
Sparta  ;  it  was  begun  by  Tyndarus  ;  the  building  was  carried 
on  by  his  sons,  and  afterward  finished  by  the  Lacedemonians. 


250 


255 


260 


HELENA* 


59 


A  fatal  contest  to  destroy 

The  unhappy  sons  of  Greece  and  Troy ; 

While  on  the  banks  of  Simois  my  name  280 

Is  vainly  sounded  by  malignant  fame. 

Cho.  Great  are,  I  know,  thy  sufferings:  but  to 
bear 

Patient  and  calm  the  necessary  ills 
Of  life,  is  now  of  highest  import  to  thee. 

Hel.  To  what  a  fate,  loved  virgins,  am  I  yoked  ! 
Was  not  my  birth  a  prodigy  to  men  1  286 

For  never  Grecian  or  barbaric  dame 
From  the  white  shell  her  young  ones  gave  to 
light, 

As  Leda  brought  me  forth,  Fame  says,  to  Jove. 

My  life  too  is  a  prodigy,  and  all  290 

The  sufferings  of  my  life  ;  from  Juno  some, 

Of  some  my  beauty  is  the  unhappy  cause. 

O  that,  like  some  fair  figure,  which  beneath 
The  painter’s  pencil  on  the  canvass  glows, 

This  beauty  were  erased,  and  I  might  take  295 
A  form  less  graceful,  that  each  circumstance 
Of  ill,  which  now  attends  me,  might  be  sunk 
Beep  in  oblivion,  and  that  Greece  might  hold 
What  is  not  ill  in  memory,  as  she  now 
Holds  what  is  ill.  He,  whom  the  gods  afflict,  300 
His  sad  thoughts  though  a  single  suffering  claims, 
Feels  its  weight  heavy,  yet  perforce  must  bear  it : 
But  I  with  many  sufferings  am  weigh’d  down. 

First,  though  my  life  is  pure  from  guilt,  my 
name 

Is  infamous  :  this  ill,  the  charge  of  crimes  305 
From  which  the  soul  is  free,  is  more  severe 
Than  what  from  truth  arises.  Next,  the  gods 
Me  from  my  country  have  removed,  and  placed 
’Mid  barbarous  manners,  where,  of  friends  de* 
prived, 

I,  from  the  free  who  draw  my  generous  blood,  310 
Am  made  a  slave  j  for  ’mong  barbarians  all 


60 


EURIPIDES. 


Are  slaves,  save  one.  The  anchor  which  alone 
Sustain’d  my  fortunes,  that  in  time  my  lord 
Would  come  and  free  me  from  these  ills,  is  lost; 
For  he  is  dead,  he  views  this  light  no  more.  315 
My  mother  too  is  dead,  her  murderer  I ; 

Wrong  was  the  cause  indeed,  but  mine  the  wrong. 
She,  who  was  born  the  glory  of  my  house, 

My  daughter,  wastes  the  bloom  of  youth  away 
Unwedded ;  and  the  twin-born  sons  of  Jove  320 
Are  now  no  more.  With  miseries  thus  oppress’d, 

I  in  each  circumstance  of  life  am  lost, 

But  not  in  deed.  This  now  remains,  my  last 
Of  sufferings ;  to  my  country  if  once  more 
I  should  return,  they  would  confine  me,  close  325 
Imprison’d,  thinking  me  that  Helena 
Who  came  with  Menelaus  from  conquer’d  Troy. 
But  were  my  husband  living,  I  should  soon, 

By  symbols  only  to  each  other  known, 

Be  recognised:  but  now  that  cannot  be,  330 

And  never  to  me  shall  he  safe  return. 

Why  longer  live  1  then  1  To  what  a  fate 
Am  1  reserved  !  Should  I,  in  sad  exchange 
Of  present  ills,  these  nuptials  choosing,  sit 
With  a  barbarian  at  a  table  piled  335 

With  costly  viands  1  When  the  wife  endures 
The  ungentle  converse  of  a  husband  rude 
In  manners,  in  his  person  rude,  to  die 
Were  rather  to  be  wish’d.  But  how  to  die, 

My  honour  not  debased  1  The  pendent  cord  340 
Disgraces,  ev’n  in  slaves  it  is  deem’d  base  : 

But  there  is  something  noble  by  the  sword 
To  fall,  though  painful:  but  to  quit  this  life 
Behooves  me  now,  so  deep  am  I  ingulfd 
In  ills.  To  glorious  fortune  others  rise  345 

By  beauty,  but  my  ruin  it  hath  wrought. 

Cho.  Think  not  this  stranger,  queen,  whoe’er  he  is, 
In  all  he  told  thee  form’d  his  words  to  truth. 

Hel.  Yet  clearly  did  he  say  my  lord  is  dead. 

Cho.  Many  reports  by  falsehood  are  devised.  350 


HELENA. 


61 


Hel.  And  many  by  the  light  of  truth  are  clear. 
Cho.  More  to  despond  than  hope  thy  soul  is  bent. 
Hel.  My  apprehensions  throw  this  terror  round 
me. 

Cho.  Art  thou  with  kindness  in  this  house  re¬ 
ceived  ? 

Hel.  All,  save  my  violent  wooer,  are  my  friends. 
Cho.  Know’st  thou  what  thou  must  do  then 
Quit  this  tomb.  356 

Hel.  To  what  doth  thy  discourse,  thy  counsel 
tend  1 

Cho.  Enter  this  house,  and  her  who  all  things 
knows, 

The  daughter  of  the  Nereid,  sea-born  nymph, 
Theonoe,  consult,  if  yet  thy  lord  360 

Lives,  or  hath  left  the  light :  of  this  inform’d, 

Such  as  thy  fortunes  are,  indulge  thy  joy 
Or  grief ;  for  ere  thou  art  of  aught  assured, 

Why  shouldst  thou  sink  in  sorrow  ?  Be  advised  ; 
Go  from  this  tomb,  and  with  the  virgin  hold  365 
Instructive  converse ;  all  things  thou  mayst  know 
From  her,  and  in  this  house  be  taught  the  truth ; 
Why  then  look  farther?  Willingly  thy  steps 
Shall  I  attend,  and  from  the  virgin  hear 
Her  Heaven-taught  answers.  Thus  a  woman  ought, 
With  friendly  aid,  to  share  a  woman’s  cares.  371 
Hel.  Yes  ;  your  advice,  dear  virgins,  I  receive  : 
Enter  then,  enter;  that  within  this  house 
All  my  distresses  you,  with  me,  may  hear. 

Cho.  To  one  not  faintly  willing  is  thy  call.  375 
Hel.  Ah  me,  the  unhappy  day  !  Ah  wretched  me  ! 
What  sad,  what  mournful  tidings  shall  I  hear! 

Cho.  Do  not,  dear  lady,  do  not  thus,  in  thought 
Presaging  ill,  anticipate  thy  griefs. 

Hel.  What  hath  he  suffer’d,  my  unhappy  lord? 
Sees  he  the  light  of  heaven,  yon  golden  sun  381 
That  rolls  his  radiant  chariot,  and  the  stars 
Holding  their  nightly  course,  or  with  the  dead 
Hath  he  beneath  the  earth  his  gloomy  fate  1 
Eurip.  Vol.  III. — F 


62 


EURIPIDES. 


Cho.  Whate’er  shall  come  with  better  hope  await. 

Hel.  Thee  1  invoke,  Eurotas,  thy  full  stream,  386 
Who  ’mid  the  green  reeds  rollest,  thee  adjure, 

If  this  report  of  my  lord’s  death  be  true — 

Cho.  Why  dost  thou  rave  1 

Hel.  •  Around  my  neck  I’ll  wreathe 

The  strangling  cord,  or  with  mine  own  hand  drive, 
Deep  in  this  flesh  will  drive  the  slaughtering  sword, 
A  victim  to  the  rivals  of  the  skies,  392 

And  to  the  Idaean  shepherd,  whose  sweet  pipe 
Once  ’mid  the  herds  of  Priam  was  attuned. 

Cho.  On  others  fall  these  ills :  but  be  thou  bless’d 

Hel.  Unhappy  Troy,  thy  towers  are  sunk  in  dust 
For  deeds  which  never  were  committed  ;  great 
And  terrible  thy  sufferings.  For  my  charms,  398 
O  Venus,  much  of  blood,  and  many  tears, 

Have  stream’d  ;  to  sorrows  sorrows,  tears  to  tears, 
Hath  misery  added.  Mothers  mourn  their  sons  ; 
And  virgins,  sisters  to  the  slain,  their  locks 
Along  Scamander’s  Phrygian  stream  have  shorn. 
Greece  too  hath  heard  the  cry,  the  cry  of  wo, 

In  mournful  notes  resounding  through  her  towns,  405 
And  beat  her  head,  and  rent  her  bleeding  cheeks. 
How  happy  was  thy  fate,  Arcadian  nymph, 

Callisto,  mounting  once  the  bed  of  Jove  ! 

More  happy  than  my  mother’s  was  thy  fate 
Changed  to  a  lioness,  with  shaggy  hair  410 

And  glaring  eyes  ;  thou  in  that  savage  form 
Didst  lose  thy  griefs.  She  too,  whom  from  her 
train 

A  hind  with  horns  of  gold  Diana  chased, 

Daughter  of  Merops  of  Titanian  race, 

Chased  for  her  beauty :  but  my  fatal  charms  415 

410  The  form  of  a  bear  is  uniformly  assigned  to  Callisto  ;  nor 
is  it  easy  to  say  why  Euripides  changes  her  to  a  lioness. 

413  Of  this  fable  no  clear  relation  remains  :  we  are  only  told 
that  the  lady’s  name  was  Co,  and  that  the  island  Cos  received 
its  name  from  her. 


HELENA. 


63 


Have  laid  the  towers  of  Dardan  Troy  in  dust, 

And  ruin’d,  ah !  have  ruin’d  bleeding  Greece. 

MENELAUS. 

O  Pelops,  who  the  contest  didst  sustain 
At  Pisa  once,  victorious  o’er  the  car 
Of  proud  (Enomaus  by  four  coursers  whirl’d,  420 
Would  thou  hadst  perish’d,  when  thy  flesh  was 
carved 

To  feast  the  gods,  and  ’mong  them  left  thy  life, 

Ere  my  sire  Atreus  drew  this  vital  air, 

Thy  son,  who  by  Aerope  gave  birth 

To  royal  Agamemnon,  and  to  me  425 

His  brother,  Meneiaus,  a  noble  pair. 

The  greatest  host  that  ever  march’d  in  arms 
(This  without  vaunting  I  may  speak)  he  led, 
Ploughing  the  watery  way  to  Troy  :  his  power 
Force  gain’d  not,  but  the  willing  sons  of  Greece  430 
Obey’d  their  chief.  Of  these  1  might  recount 
Some  now  no  more,  and  sqme  that  from  the  sea 
With  joy  escaped,  and  of  the  dead  the  names 
Bear  with  them  home.  But  on  the  swelling  wave 
Of  the  blue  sea,  ere  since  the  towers  of  Troy  435 
I  levell’d  with  the  ground,  have  I  been  toss’d 
Unhappy  ;  and,  desirous  to  review 
My  native  country,  by  the  gods  am  deem’d 
Unworthy  of  that  grace.  The  dreary  wilds 
Of  Libya,  and  inhospitable  bays,  440 

All  have  I  pass’d ;  and  when  my  bark  approach’d 
Nigh  to  my  country,  back  the  adverse  winds 
Impetuous  drove  it,  and  no  favouring  gale 
Hath  fill’d  my  sails  to  waft  me  home  to  Greece : 
And  now,  unhappy,  shipwreck’d,  reft  of  friends,  445 
1  on  this  land  am  cast ;  against  the  rocks 
Oft  toss’d,  my  shatter’d  galley  is  a  wreck, 

And  of  her  well-compacted  planks  the  keel 
Alone  remains,  in  which  I  reach’d  the  shore 
By  unexpected  fortune,  scarce  escaped,  450 

And  with  me  Helena  brought  back  from  Troy. 


64 


EURIPIDES. 


But  of  this  country  what  the  name,  and  who 
The  inhabitants,  I  know  not ;  for  through  shame 
I  shunn’d  the  converse  of  the  many,  prompt 
To  question  me  of  this  my  wretched  garb,  455 
My  fortunes  shame  concealing.  When  a  man 
Of  high  estate  from  all  his  glories  sinks, 

New  to  distress,  he  feels  his  wretched  fall 
With  keener  anguish  than  one  long  inured 
To  misery.  But  want  afflicts  me  now  :  460 

I  have  nor  food  nor  raiment ;  proof  of  this 
Are  these  poor  coverings,  relics  of  my  ship, 

Cast  on  the  shore  ;  for  all  my  former  robes, 

My  radiant  vests,  the  pride  of  gorgeous  wealth, 

The  sea  hath  swallow’d.  In  a  secret  cave  465 
My  wife,  the  fatal  cause  of  all  my  ills, 

Concealing,  and  my  friends,  what  few  remain, 
Charging  to  guard  my  bed, — alone  I  stray, 

Seeking  to  furnish  them  with  what  their  wants 
Demand,  if  haply  I  may  find  supplies.  470 

Seeing  this  house  with  lofty  battlements 
Embellish’d,  and  its  stately  gates,  which  speak 
A  rich  man’s  mansion,  hither  am  I  come  ; 

For  there  is  hope  that  from  a  wealthy  house 
Something  may  for  my  mariners  be  gain’d  ;  475 

But  those  who  live  in  penury  have  naught, 

Had  they  the  will,  to  give  distress  relief. 

Who  keeps  the  gate,  ho !  from  the  house  who  comes, 
The  story  of  my  miseries  to  relate  1 

OLD  FEMALE  SERVANT,  MENELAUS. 

Ser.  Who  art  thou  at  the  gate  1  Wilt  thou  not 
hence,  480 

Nor,  standing  at  the  portal,  to  our  lords 
Give  high  offence  1  Or  thou  wilt  die,  from  Greece 
Thy  birth  derived  1  No  Grecian  hence  returns. 

Men.  Well,  aged  dame,  in  all  this  hast  thou  said. 
Might  I— I  will  obey : — yet  might  I  speak.  485 

Ser.  Begone  ;  for,  stranger,  this  on  me  is  charged, 
That  none  of  Grecian  birth  approach  this  house. 


HELENA.  65 

Men.  Lift  not  thine  hand,  nor  drive  me  hence  by 
force. 

Ser.  Thou  heed’st  not  what  I  say :  thine  is  the 
blame. 

Men.  Return  into  the  house,  and  tell  thy  lords — 

Ser.  Ill  would  it  be  for  thee  to  tell  thy  words.  491 

Men.  I  come  a  stranger,  wreck’d ;  such  none 
abuse. 

Ser.  Go  now  from  hence,  and  seek  some  other 
house. 

Men.  No  ;  I  will  enter  here  :  do  thou  comply. 

Ser.  Thou  art  troublesome  :  force  soon  will  drive 
thee  hence.  495 

Men.  Ah  me !  ah  me !  where  now  my  glorious 
hosts  ? 

Ser.  ’Mong  them  thou  mightst  be  honour’d,  but 
not  here. 

Men.  O  fortune,  what  unworthy  insult  this  ! 

Ser.  What  piteous  sorrow  dews  thine  eyes  with 
tears  ? 

Men.  Remembrance  of  my  former  happy  state.  500 

Ser.  Hence,  then,  and  to  thy  friends  present  thy 
tears. 

Men.  What  country  this,  and  whose  this  royal 
house  ? 

Ser.  Proteus  dwells  here,  and  Egypt  is  the  land. 

Men.  Egypt !  0  misery,  whither  am  I  driven  ! 

Ser.  Why  dost  thou  charge  the  race  of  Nile  with 
blame  1  505 

Men.  I  blame  them  not :  my  fortune  I  lament. 

Ser.  Many  feel  sorrows,  and  not  thou  alone. 

Men.  But  is  the  king  thou  namest  in  the  house  ? 

Ser.  This  is  his  tomb  :  his  son  is  Egypt’s  lord. 

Men.  Where  is  he?  in  the  house,  or  absent 
hence?  .  510 

Ser.  Absent,  but  to  the  Greeks  a  ruthless  foe. 

Men.  And  what  the  cause,  whose  sad  effects  I 
feel  ? 

Ser.  Helena,  snrung  from  Jove,  is  in  this  house. 

F  2 


66 


EURIPIDES. 


Men.  How  say’st  thou  ?  What  thy  word  ?  Speak 
it  again. 

Ser.  The  daughter  of  the  Spartan  Tyndarus.  515 
Men.  Whence  comes  she  ?  Much  1  marvel  what 
this  means. 

Ser.  Hither  from  Lacedaemon’s  realm  she  came. 
Men.  When? — Is  my  wife  borne  from  the  cave 
away  ? 

Ser.  Before  the  Grecians,  stranger,  march’d  to 
Troy. 

But  haste  thee  from  the  gate  ;  for  in  this  house  520 
Distraction  reigns ;  all  is  confusion  here. 

In  an  ill  time  thou  comest :  should  my  lord 
Here  seize  thee,  all  thy  welcome  will  be  death. 

I  to  the  Grecians  am  a  friend,  though  rude 
The  words  I  gave  thee  ;  but  I  fear  my  lord.  525 
Men.  What  can  I  say  ?  What  can  I  think  ?  A 
train 

Of  present  ills  added  to  former  ills 

Surrounds  me,  if  I  reach  this  land,  from  Troy 

Leading  my  wife,  and  in  the  cavern’d  rock 

She  safe  is  guarded ;  and  another  here,  530 

Bearing  her  name,  hath  in  this  royal  house 

Her  habitation.  But  the  aged  dame 

Said  that  she  sprung  from  Jove.  Is  there  a  man 

Upon  the  banks  of  Nile  who  bears  the  name 

Of  Jove  ?  for  he  that  reigns  in  heaven  is  one.  535 

Where  in  the  world  is  Sparta,  but  alone 

Where  ’mid  his  reeds  his  beauteous- winding  stream. 

Eurotas  rolls  ?  The  name  of  Tyndarus 

Is  singly  known  to  fame.  And  where  the  land 

That  bears  with  Lacedaemon  and  with  Troy  540 

Like  names  ?  In  truth,  I  know  not  what  to  say. 

But  various  men,  it  seems,  in  various  lands, 

Have  the  same  name,  and  various  towns  with 
towns, 

With  women  women:  naught  in  this  is  strange. 

Nor  for  the  servant’s  menace  will  I  fly  :  545 

For  there  is  no  man  of  that  barbarous  soul, 


HELENA. 


67 


Hearing-  my  name,  who  will  not  give  me  food.  * 
The  flames  of  Troy  are  through  the  world  renown’d, 
And  Menelaus,  who  greatly  kindled  them, 

Is  in  no  land  unknown.  I  then  will  wait  550 

The  coming  of  the  king :  yet  this  requires 
A  double  caution  :  if  his  soul  be  fierce 
And  savage,  to  my  wreck’d  bark  I  will  speed, 

Myself  concealing;  if  he  aught  disclose 

Of  gentle  manners,  I  will  ask  such  aid  555 

As  suits  my  present  wretched  circumstance. 

This  in  my  miseries  is  of  all  my  ills 
The  greatest,  that  of  other  kings,  myself 
A  king,  I  beg  the  poor  supplies  of  life  ; 

But  hard  Necessity  constrains:  not  mine  560 

This  saying,  but  the  sentence  of  the  sage, —  • 
Nothing  is  stronger  than  Necessity. 

MENELAUS,  CHORUS. 

Cho.  From  the  prophetic  virgin,  as  her  voice 
Within  the  royal  house  disclosed  the  fates, 

I  heard  that  Menelaus  hath  not  yet  sunk  565 

To  the  dark  shades  of  Erebus,  entomb’d 
In  earth,  but,  on  the  boisterous  billows  toss’d, 

Hath  not  yet  reach’d  the  harbours  of  his  country, 
His  life  with  wanderings  wretched,  of  his  friends 
Bereft,  and  driven  to  many  a  distant  shore,  570 
As  in  his  bark  he  ploughs  his  way  from  Troy. 

HELENA,  MENELAUS,  CHORUS. 

Hel.  I  to  this  hallow’d  tomb  again  return, 

My  seat  resuming,  from  Theonoe, 

Who  all  things  knows,  in  truths  that  joy  my  soul 
Instructed  ;  for  she  says  my  husband  lives,  575 
And  views  the  light  of  heaven,  but  wandering  wide, 
And  toss’d  o’er  various  seas  ;  nor  will  he  come 
Unexercised  in  ills,  whene’er  his  toils 
Shall  find  an  end.  One  thing  she  did  not  say, 

If  safe  he  should  return;  this  I  forbore  580 

Plainly  to  ask,  transported  with  my  joy 


08 


EURIPIDES. 


That  he  is  safe.  She  said  too  that  ev’n  now 
He  to  this  place  is  nigh,  wreck’d  on  this  coast, 

With  a  few  friends.  O,  wouldst  thou  come  to  me, 
As  thy  arrival  is  my  soul’s  warm  wish ! —  585 

Ah,  who  is  this  ?  Am  I  in  secret  toils 
Ensnared,  here  planted  by  the  impious  son 
Of  Proteus  ]  With  a  courser’s  eager  speed, 

Or  like  a  bounding  Thyad,  to  the  tomb 

Shall  I  not  spring]  Of  rude  and  savage  look  590 

Is  he,  who  lies  in  wait  to  seize  me  here. 

Men.  Thou  who  with  terror  wing’d  dost  urge  thy 
flight 


To  the  tomb’s  base,  and  its  ascending  flames, 

Stay:  wherefore  dost  thou  fly  ?  That  form,  just 
shown, 

Strikes  me  with  wonder  and  astonishment.  595 
Hel.  0  virgins,  I  am  injured,  by  this  man 
Kept  from  the  tomb  by  force  :  his  base  design 
To  seize  me,  and  deliver  to  his  lord ; 

The  tyrant,  from  whose  nuptials  I  am  fled. 

Men.  I  am  no  ruffian,  none  to  mischief  hired.  600 
Hel.  Nay,  ev’n  the  weeds  that  clothe  thy  limbs 
are  base. 

Men.  Stay  thy  swift  foot,  and  lay  thy  fears  aside. 
Hel.  I  stay;  now  I  have  reach’d  this  hallow’d 
place. 

Men.  Who  art  thou?  What  a  form  do  I  behold  ! 
Hel.  And  who  art  thou  ?  Like  thee  am  I  in  doubt. 
Men.  Such  a  resemblance  ne’er  did  I  behold.  606 
Hel.  Ye  gods!  For ’tis  a  god  to  agnize  our  friends. 
Men.  Art  thou  o/  Greece,  or  native  of  this  land? 
Hel.  Of  Greece  :  thy  country  too  I  wish  to  know. 
Men.  Thou,  lady,  hast  the  form  of  Helena.  610 
Hel.  And  thou  of  Menelaus.  I  stand  amazed. 
Men.  Rightly  a  wretched  man  dost  thou  avow. 
Hel.  To  thy  wife’s  arms  at  length  art  thou  re¬ 
turn’d  ? 

Men.  What  wife  ?  Stand  off :  thou  shalt  not  touch 
my  vests 


HELENA. 


69 


Hel.  Whom  Tyndarus,  my  father,  gave  to  thee.  615 
Men.  Light-bearing  Hecate,  send  friendly  visions. 
Hel.  Thou  seest  no  phantom  of  her  nightly  train. 
Men.  I  am  not,  sure,  the  husband  of  two  wives. 
Hel.  What  other  wife  hath  right  to  call  thee  lord  1 
Men.  She  whom  the  cave  conceals,  from  Phrygia 
brought.  620 

Hel.  It  is  not  so:  thou  hast  no  wife  but  me. 

Men.  Have  I  my  sense  1  Or  is  mine  eye  deceived  I 
Hel.  What,  seeing  me,  dost  thou  not  see  thy  wife  1 
Men.  The  form  is  like  :  but  I  want  certain  proof. 
Hel.  What  proof?  reflect:  who  better  knows 
than  thou  ?  625 

Men.  Thou  hast  her  form  ;  that  I  shall  not  deny. 
H  el.  Who  shall  inform  thee  better  than  thine 
eyes  ? 

Men.  Here  lies  the  doubt;  I  have  another  wife. 
Hel.  I  never  went  to  Troy  ;  my  image  went. 
Men.  Who  could  with  inbreathed  life  an  image 
frame  ?  630 

Hel.  The  ./Ether,  whence  thou  hast  a  heaven- 
form’d  wife. 

Men.  Form’d  by  what  god  ?  Thy  words  surpass 
belief. 

Hel.  By  Juno  ;  me  that  Paris  might  not  gain. 
Men.  Here  and  at  Troy  at  once  how  couldst  thou 
be  1  634 

Hel.  This  of  my  name,  not  person,  could  be  true. 
Men.  Let  me  begone  ;  I  came  with  griefs  enough. 
Hel.  Me  for  an  empty  image  wilt  thou  leave  ? 
Men.  And  fare  thou  well,  since  thou  art  like  my 
wife. 

Hel.  Ah,  I  receive,  but  not  retain  my  lord  ! 

Men.  To  this  my  great  toils  past,  not  thou,  con¬ 
strain.  640 

Hel.  Was  ever  woman  such  a  wretch  as  I ! 

My  dearest  friends  forsake  me :  never  Greece, 

My  country  never  shall  I  visit  more. 


70 


EURIPIDES. 


MESSENGER,  MENELAUS,  HELENA,  CHORUS. 

Mes.  Long  have  I  sought  thee,  Menelaus,  with 
pain 

All  this  barbaric  country  wandering  o’er,  645 

Sent  by  thy  friends  left  in  the  secret  cave. 

Men.  By  these  barbarians  plunder’d  1  What  hath 
chanced  1 

Mes.  Things  marvellous,  the  facts  surpassing 
words. 

Men.  Say  what :  something  of  new  thy  zeal  im¬ 
ports. 

Mes.  Thou  hast  sustain’d  a  thousand  toils  in  vain. 

Men.  These  are  old  woes :  what  hast  thou  to  re¬ 
late!  651 

Mes.  Thy  wife  is  gone  into  the  rolling  air 
Borne  from  the  sight,  and  lost  amid  the  sky, 
Leaving  the  solemn  cave,  in  whose  recess 
We  guarded  her;  but,  ere  she  vanish’d,  spoke  655 
These  words  :  “  O  ye  unhappy  sons  of  Troy, 

And  all  ye  Grecians,  on  Scamander’s  banks 
For  me  you  died,  by  Juno’s  fraud  you  died, 

Deeming  that  Paris  triumph’d  in  the  charms 
Of  Helena,  who  ne’er  was  his.  The  time  660 
Assign’d  me  I  have  staid;  and  now,  complete 
The  fate-appointed  work,  to  JEther  go, 

My  father :  but  the  unhappy  Helena, 

Who  knows  no  guilt,  feels  all  the  cruel  wounds 
Of  infamy.” — Ha  !  art  thou  here  ?  Oh  hail,  665 
Daughter  of  Leda!  To  the  stars  I  said 
Thou  hadst  retired,  not  knowing  that  on  wings 
Thou  hadst  the  power  to  fly  :  no  more  from  thee 
This  mockery  I  allow:  enough  of  toils 
Thy  husband,  and  his  valiant  friends  in  arms,  670 
At  Ilium,  lady,  for  thy  sake  have  borne. 

Men.  It  is  so:  truth  is  in  her  words;  with  these 
They  hold  agreement.  O,  the  wish’d-for  day, 
Which  gives  me  thus  to  clasp  thee  in  my  arms  ! 

Hel.  O  thou  most  dear  of  men  !  The  time  indeed 
Was  tedious,  but  the  joy  is  come  at  last.  676 


HELENA. 


71 


Mine  is  the  pleasure,  O  my  friends,  my  lord 
To  have  received,  and  in  the  rolling  course 
Of  yon  bright  sun  to  hang  on  his  dear  hand. 

Men.  And  I  on  thine.  I  have  a  thousand  things 
To  say,  but  know  not  which  to  mention  first.  681 
Hel.  I  am  all  joy :  the  tresses  on  my  head 
Are  raised  like  wings:  my  eyes  o’erflow  with 
tears. 

What  pleasure  round  thee  thus  to  throw  my  arms, 
O  my  loved  lord  !  thy  sight  transports  my  soul.  685 
Men.  Fate  now  is  kind  :  once  more  1  hold  my 
wife, 

Daughter  of  Jove  and  Leda  ;  bless’d,  once  bless’d, 
With  her  two  brothers,  on  their  snow-white  steeds 
Conspicuous,  at  her  nuptials  waved  the  torch ; 

But  the  gods  bore  her  from  my  house  away.  690 
Hel.  But  lead  us  to  a  happier  fortune  now  ; 

The  ill  is  now  a  blessing,  and  hath  brought 
My  husband  to  me :  tedious  the  delay, 

But  may  this  blessing  be  confirm’d  to  me  ! 

Men.  Be  it  confirm’d  ;  thy  wish  is  mine  :  if  one 
Is  wretched,  wretched  must  the  other  be.  696 

Hel.  My  friends,  my  friends,  for  sorrows  past  no 
more 

1  weep,  I  mourn  no  more  :  I  have  my  lord, 

I  have  my  lord,  whom  many  a  rolling  year 
Sad  I  expected  to  return  from  Troy.  700 

Men.  And  I  have  thee.  How  many  thousand  suns 
Have  roll’d,  ere  what  the  goddess  wrought  I  knew  ! 
Hel.  My  tears  from  joy,  more  than  from  sorrow, 
flow. 

What  should  I  say  ?  What  mortal  this  could  hope  1 
Beyond  my  thought  I  clasp  thee  to  my  breast.  705 
Men.  And  I  clasp  thee  to  mine.  1  thought  indeed 
That  to  the  Idaean  city  thou  hadst  fled, 

The  unhappy  towers  of  Troy.  But,  by  the  gods, 
How  from  my  house  wast  thou  convey’d  away  1 
Hel.  Ah  me  !  my  woes  thou  to  their  bitter  source 
Wouldst  trace,  a  tale  of  sorrow  thou  wouldst  hear. 


72 


EURIPIDES. 


Men.  Speak :  what  the  gods  have  wrought  atten¬ 
tion  claims.  712 

Hel.  Howe’er  I  tell  it,  it  will  shock  my  soul. 

Men.  Yet  speak  :  with  pleasure  sorrows  past  we 
hear. 

Hel.  Ne’er  to  the  bed  of  the  barbaric  youth  715 
Came  I  with  winged  sails,  with  winged  love  : 

His  baleful  nuptials  never  did  I  know. 

Men.  What  god,  what  fate,  then,  bore  thee  from 
thy  country  ? 

Hel.  The  son  of  Jove,  O  my  loved  lord,  the  son 
Of  Jove  convey’d  me  to  the  banks  of  Nile.  720 
Men.  This  of  thy  guide  excites  astonishment ; 
Thy  words  are  marvellous. 

Hel.  I  weep;  mine  eyes 

Are  wet  with  tears.  The  wife  of  Jove  design’d 
My  ruin. 

Men.  Why  to  ills  devoting  thee  1 
Hel.  Ah  me,  the  baths,  the  fountains,  where  their 
charms  725 

The  goddesses  with  added  grace  adorn’d  ! 

Thence  came  the  judgment,  source  of  all  my  ills. 
Men.  Did  Juno  for  this  judgment  work  thee  wo  ? 
Hel.  That  me  from  Paris  she  might  bear  away, 

A  prize  by  Venus  promised  to  his  arms.  730 

Men.  How  wretched ! 

Hel.  Yes,  that  wretchedness  was  mine  : 

So  1  was  borne  to  Egypt. 

Men.  And  she  gave 

For  thee  a  phantom  in  thy  figure  form’d  ! 

Hel.  But  in  my  house,  what  woes,  what  woes ! 
Ah  me, 

My  mother ! 

Men.  What  of  her  hast  thou  to  speak  1  735 

Hel.  My  mother  is  no  more :  by  her  own  hands, 
In  anguish  for  my  foul  disgrace,  she  died. 

Men.  I  weep  for  her :  but  doth  thy  daughter  live, 
The  young  Hermione  1 
Hel.  She  lives,  loved  lord, 


HELENA.  73 

But  lives  unwedded,  lonely ;  and  with  sighs  740 
The  shame  of  my  unhallow’d  nuptials  mourns. 

Men.  0  Paris,  thou  hast  ruin’d  all  my  house  ! 

But  on  thyself  the  ruin  hast  thou  drawn, 

And  on  ten  thousand  Grecians  clad  in  arms. 

Hel.  Me  too,  ill-fated  and  accursed,  the  god  745 
Forced  from  my  country,  from  my  state,  from  thee, 
Because  I  left  my  house,  my  nuptial  bed, 

Which  yet  I  left  not,  led  by  shameful  love. 

Cho.  If  blessings  on  your  future  life  await, 

Your  past  afflictions  may  be  well  repaid.  750 

Mes.  Let  me  too,  Menelaus,  your  joys  partake  : 

I  hear  them,  but  a  clearer  knowledge  want. 

Men.  Thou  too,  old  man,  in  our  discourse  shalt 
share. 

Mes.  Our  toils  at  Ilium  did  not  she  dispense  1 
Men.  Not  she;  the  gods  deceived  us:  in  our 
hands 

We  held  a  cloud-form’d  image  fraught  with  ills.  756 
Mes.  What,  for  a  phantom  have  we  borne  vain 
toils  1 

Men.  These  are  the  works  of  Juno,  and  the  strife 
Of  the  three  rival  beauties  of  the  skies. 

Mes.  Is  this  a  real  woman,  and  thy  wife?  760 
Men.  She  is :  these  things  believe  thou  on  my 
word.  ( 

Mes.  The  gods,  my  child,  to  different  men  assign 
Fortunes  as  different :  in  their  counsels  dark, 

Nor  traced  by  human  wisdom,  they  with  ease 
Effect  their  various  purposes  :  one  toils,  765 

Another  knows  not  toil,  but  all  at  once 
Ruin  o’erwhelms  him.  You  have  had  full  share, 
Thou  and  thy  husband,  of  afflictions,  thou 
From  evil  fame,  he  in  the  works  of  war. 

But,  while  he  toil’d,  he  by  his  toils  attain’d  770 
Naught  of  advantage  ;  he  attains  it  now, 

And  its  choice  blessings  fate  spontaneous  pours. 
Thy  aged  father  and  thy  brothers  sprung 
Eurip.  Vol.  III. — G 


74  EURIPIDES. 

From  Jove  thou  hast  not  shamed,  nor  hast  done 
aught 

Of  what  was  bruited.  Pleased  I  now  renew  775 
Thy  nuptials  ;  ready  memory  now  recalls 
The  torches  which  I  bore,  when  thy  four  steeds 
I  drove,  and  in  the  car  with  him  thou  sat’st 
A  bride,  exchanging  thy  illustrious  house. 

Vile  is  the  wretch  who  doth  not  hold  his  lords  780 
In  reverence,  nor  rejoices  in  their  joy, 

Nor  in  their  sorrows  grieves.  It  is  my  wish, 
Though  born  a  slave,  among  the  generous  slaves 
To  be  accounted,  bearing  a  free  mind, 

If  not  the  name  :  for  better  this  I  deem  785 

Than  two  bad  things,  to  harbour  a  base  mind, 

And  hear  from  those  around  the  name  of  slave. 
Men.  ’Tis  well,  old  man :  oft,  standing  at  my 
shield, 

Hast  thou  amid  my  toils  sustain’d  thy  share 
Of  toils  :  my  happier  fortune  sharing  now,  790 
Go  to  the  cave,  and  to  my  friends  there  left 
Relate  what  here  hath  happen’d :  on  the  shore 
Charge  them  to  stay,  the  conflicts  which  I  deem 
Must  here  be  mine,  awaiting,  and  to  mark 
How  from  this  country  we  may  speed  our  sails  ;  795 
That,  sharing  all  one  fortune,  we  may  find 
Some  means  from  these  barbarians  to  be  saved. 

Mes.  This  shall  be  done,  O  king.  But  I  have 
seen 

How  vain,  how  full  of  falsehoods  is  the  skill 
Of  the  divining  seers  ;  nor  is  there  aught  800 

Of  firm  assurance  in  the  blazing  fires, 

Or  in  the  voice  of  birds.  How  weak  to  deem 
That  to  man’s  welfare  birds  can  aught  avail ! 

For  to  the  Grecian  host  nor  voice  nor  sign 
Did  Calchas  give,  that  for  a  cloud  he  saw  805 

His  dear  friends  die ;  but  Ilium  was  destroy’d 
In  vain.  The  god,  thou  haply  mayst  reply, 

So  will’d  not :  why  to  auguries  then  fly  ] 

By  sacrifice  we  ought  to  ask  the  gods 


HELENA. 


75 

810 


i  \ 

For  blessings,  and  omit  prophetic  signs, 

Inventions  to  delude  man’s  life  in  vain. 

Never  was  man  made  rich  on  hallow’d  flames 
By  idly  gazing :  the  best  augury 
Is  prudence,  which  to  well-weigh’d  counsels  guides. 
Cho.  Of  auguries,  with  thine,  old  man,  my 
thoughts  815 

Accord :  for  he,  who  hath  the  gods  his  friends, 
Hath  in  his  house  the  truest  oracle. 

Hel.  It  may  be  so :  here  thus  far  all  is  well. 
Much-suffering  man,  how  wast  thou  saved  from 
Troy  1 

To  know  avails  not ;  yet  a  friend  must  feel  820 
A  wish  to  hear  the  ills  a  friend  hath  borne. 

Men.  Much  hast  thou  ask’d  in  brief :  but  of  my 
toils 

Why  should  I  tell  thee  in  the  Aegean  sea ; 

Of  flames  that  gleam’d  above  the  Eubcean  wave 
By  Nauplius  kindled  ;  of  the  Cretan  towns  825 
And  Libyan,  which  I  pass’d ;  why  of  the  rocks 
Of  Perseus  1  for  I  would  not  weary  thee 
With  the  recital.  It  would  pain  my  soul 
To  speak  my  ills :  I  had  enough  of  toil 
In  suffering  them  ;  my  griefs  I  twice  should  bear. 
Hel.  Discreeter  are  thy  words  than  mine,  which 
made  831 

The  inquiry :  yet,  omitting  all  the  rest, 

Tell  me  one  thing;  how  long  hast  thou  been 
toss’d 

On  the  rough  sea,  contending  with  the  waves  1 
Men*  Besides  ten  toilsome  years  at  Ilium  pass’d, 
Seven  times  the  sun  hath  roil’d  his  annual  course. 

825  When  the  Grecians  were  returning  from  Troy,  Nauplius, 
in  revenge  for  the  death  of  his  son  Palamedes,  kindled  fires  on 
the  heights  of  Euboea  :  the  fleet,  deceived  by  these,  ran  on  the 
rocks  of  Caphareus,  a  mountain  of  Euboea,  and  suffered 
greatly. 

827  The  western  coast  of  Africa,  where  Perseus  slew  Me 

duaa. 


76 


EURIPIDES. 


Hel.  0,  thou  hast  named  a  tedious  time  ;  and 
saved,  837 

From  thence  thou  hither  to  be  slain  art  come. 

Men.  What  say’st  thou?  To  be  slain?  This 
ruin  whence  ? 

Hel.  Fly,  quickly  fly,  and  quit  this  barbarous  land, 
Or  thou  wilt  die  by  him  that  rules  this  house.  841 

Men.  What  have  1  done  deserving  such  an  ill  ? 

Hel.  Hindering  my  nuptials,  ’gainst  his  will  thou 
comest. 

Men.  Is  there  one  here  who  wills  to  wed  my 
wife  ? 

Hel.  And  with  rude  insults  :  such  have  I  sus¬ 
tain’d.  845 

Men.  Some  potent  lord,  or  he  who  here  is  king? 

Hel.  The  son  of  Proteus,  monarch  of  these 
realms. 

Men.  This  then  is  what  the  servant  darkly  spoke. 

Hel.  At  what  barbaric  portal  hast  thou  stood  ? 

Men.  At  this,  whence  as  a  beggar  I  was  driven. 

Hel.  Didst  thou  then  beg  for  food  ?  Unhappy 
me !  851 

Men.  That  was  in  fact  my  purpose,  though  not 
named. 

Hel.  All  that  concerns  my  nuptials  then  thou 
know’st. 

Men.  Save  this,  if  thou  hast  shunn’d  these  bridal 
rites. 

Hel.  Pure,  be  assured,  have  I  preserved  thy  bed. 

Men.  What  proof?  Most  grateful  are  thy  words, 
if  true.  856 

Hel.  Seest  thou  my  wretched  seat  beside  that 
tomb  ? 

Men.  A  couch  of  leaves  :  what  there  hast  thou 
to  do  ? 

Hel.  A  suppliant  there  these  nuptials  to  avoid. 

Men.  Are  altars  rare,  or  these  your  barbarous 
rites  ?  860 

Hel.  This,  like  the  temples  of  the  gods,  protects 


HELENA. 


77 


0 

Men.  May  1  not  then  conduct  thee  to  my  house  1 
Hel.  The  sword  awaits  thee,  rather  than  my  bed. 
Men.  So  should  I  be  of  mortals  most  a  wretch. 
Hel.  Let  not  shame  stay  thee  now :  fly  from  this 
land.  865 

Men.  And  leave  thee  1  Troy  for  thee  I  laid  in 
dust. 

Hel.  Better  than  for  my  bed  by  him  to  die. 

Men.  Unmanly  this,  and  much  unworthy  Troy. 
Hel.  The  tyrant,  if  thou  wouldst,  thou  canst  not 
kill. 

Men.  What,  will  the  sword  on  him  imprint  no 
wound  1  870 

Hel.  Wisdom  attempts  not  things  impossible. 
Men.  Shall  1  then  tamely  yield  my  hands  to 
chains  1 

Hel.  Caution  is  here  required,  and  much  of  art. 
Men.  ’Tis  nobler  in  some  great  attempt  to  die. 
Hel.  There  is  one  hope,  by  which  we  may  be 
saved.  875 

Men.  By  gifts,  by  daring,  or  persuasive  speech  1 
H  el.  If  the  king  knows  not  thou  art  here  arrived. 
Men.  Who  shall  inform  him  1  Me  he  will  not 
know. 

Hel.  Within  one  aids  him  equal  to  the  gods. 

Men.  Some  voice  perchance  there  holds  its  secret 
seat.  880 

Hel.  No;  but  his  sister,  named  Theonoe. 

Men.  Oracular  the  name ;  but  what  her  power  1 
Hel.  She  all  things  knows,  and  will  inform  her 
brother. 

Men.  Then  I  must  die :  I  cannot  be  conceal’d. 
Hel.  Her  gentle  nature  suppliant  might  we  win — 
Men.  Win  to  do  what  1  What  hope  dost  thou  pre¬ 
sent  ]  886 

Hel.  Not  to  disclose  that  thou  art  here  arrived. 

880  A  divine  voice,  that  declares  future  events  without  an  in- 
teiprcter  or  prophet. 

G  2 


78 


EURIPIDES. 


Men.  If  we  prevail,  safe  may  we  leave  this  land? 

Hel.  If  she  our  counsels  shares ;  but  not  by 
stealth. 

Men.  Be  this  thy  task :  on  woman  woman  wins. 

Hel.  Her  knees  these  hands  shall  not  forbear  to 
clasp.  891 

Men.  What  if  to  our  entreaties  she  be  deaf? 

Hel.  Then  thou  must  die,  and  I  by  force  must 
wed. 

Men.  Thou  wouldst  betray  me :  force  is  thy  pre¬ 
tence. 

Hel.  No;  by  thy  head,  a  sacred  oath,  I  swear — 

Men.  Swear  what  ?  To  die,  and  never  stain  my 
bed  ?  896 

Hel.  By  the  same  sword  ;  and  near  thee  will  I 
lie. 

Men.  Take  my  right  hand ;  on  that  confirm  thy 
oath. 

Hel.  I  take  it ;  if  thou  diest,  to  leave  this  light. 

Men.  And  I,  deprived  of  thee,  will  leave  my  life. 

Hel.  How,  if  we  die,  with  glory  shall  we  die  ?  901 

Men.  I  on  this  tomb  will  kill  thee,  and  then  kill 
Myself ;  but  for  thy  bed  I  first  will  strive 
In  a. bold  conflict :  but  whoe’er  hath  will, 

Let  him  come  near ;  my  glory  won  at  Troy  905 
I  will  not  sully;  nor,  to  Greece  return’d, 

Receive  this  keen  reproach ; — that  I  deprived 
Thetis  of  her  Achilles  ;  that  I  saw 
The  Telamonian  Ajax  and  the  son 
Of  Theseus  die,  yet  dared  not  leave  the  light  910 
For  my  own  wife.  No  ;  for  the  gods  are  wise, 

And  on  the  brave  man,  fallen  beneath  his  foes, 

Light  in  his  tomb  will  lay  the  earth ;  but  heap 
Its  gross  and  cumbrous  burden  on  the  base. 

Cho.  O,  may  the  race  of  Tantalus,  ye  gods,  915 
At  length  be  bless’d,  nor  know  affliction  more  ! 

Hel.  Unhappy  me!  for  such  my  fortune  now: 
Ruin  comes  rolling  on  us :  from  the  house 
Theonoe,  the  fate-foretelling  virgin,  919 


HELENA. 


79 


Comes  forth;  the  house  resounds,  as  from  the  doors 
The  bolts  move  backward.  Fly :  but  wherefore  fly  1 
Absent  or  present,  she  thy  coming  knows. 

Ah  me,  unhappy,  how  am  I  undone  ! 

From  Troy  and  that  barbaric  country  saved, 

Here  shalt  thou  fall  by  the  barbaric  sword.  925 

THEONOE,  HELENA,  MENELAUS,  CHORUS. 

Theon.  Go  thou  before  me,  bearing  in  thine  hand 
The  lighted  torch  ;  and,  as  the  solemn  rite 
Demands,  with  incense  scent  the  ambient  air, 

That  pure  I  may  receive  the  breath  of  heaven. 

But  if  the  way  by  tread  of  impious  foot  930 

Hath  been  polluted,  purge  it  with  the  flame, 

And  strike  it  with  the  torch,  that  I  may  pass. 

My  rites  perform’d  in  honour  of  the  gods, 

Bear  to  my  Lares  back  their  sacred  flame. — 

Well,  Helena;  had  my  responses  aught  935 

Of  truth  1  Thy  husband,  Menelaus,  is  come, 

And  stands  before  us,  of  his  ships  deprived, 

And  of  thy  image.  What  a  world  of  toils, 

Unhappy  man,  escaped,  art  thou  arrived  ! 

Nor  dost  thou  know  if  home  thou  shalt  return,  940 
Or  here  remain.  A  council  of  the  gods 
Will  this  day  round  the  throne  of  Jove  be  held, 
With  no  small  strife,  on  thee  :  for  Juno,  once 
Thy  foe,  propitious  now,  thy  safe  return 
To  Sparta  wills,  with  her;  that  Greece  may  know 
How  Paris  in  unreal  nuptials  joy’d,  946 

The  gift  of  Venus  :  thy  return  her  will 
Opposes,  lest,  detected,  she  appear 
By  fraud  the  prize  of  beauty  to  have  gain’d, 

With  Helena’s  ill-promised  nuptials  bought  950 
On  me  the  event  depends,  should  I  inform, 

As  Venus  wills,  my  brother  that  thou  here 
Art  present,  and  destroy ;  or,  taking  part 
'With  Juno,  save  thy  life,  thy  presence  here 
Hid  from  my  brother,  who  hath  given  me  charge  955 
To  tell  him,  shouldstthou  chance  to  reach  this  land. 


80 


EURIPIDES. 


How  must  it  be  ?  Shall  1  my  brother  show 
That  thou  art  here,  my  safety  to  procure  1 
Hel.  0  virgin,  suppliant  at  thy  knees  1  fall 
(A  seat  that  suits  the  unhappy),  for  myself,  9G0 
For  him,  whom,  absent  long,  and  scarce  received, 
Dying  I  soon  must  see.  Ah,  do  not  tell 
Thy  brother  that  my  husband  is  return’d 
To  these  fond  arms :  but,  I  entreat  thee,  save, 

O;  save  him  !  For  thy  brother  do  not  sell  965 
Thy  piety,  betray’d  to  purchase  thanks 
Unhallow’d  and  unjust.  The  gods  abhor 
All  acts  of  violence,  commanding  men 
To  enjoy  what  honour  hath  acquired,  but  naught 
By  rapines  wrested  :  wealth  must  be  disdain’d  970 
If  by  injustice  grasp’d.  The  air  of  heaven 
Is  to  all  mortals  free ;  the  earth  is  free, 

In  which  our  houses  we  may  fill  with  wealth, 

Not  take  from  others,  plundering  them  by  force. 

Me  by  divine  command,  but  to  my  peace  975 

Destructive,  Hermes  to  thy  father  gave, 

To  save  me  for  my  husband :  he  is  here, 

He  wishes  to  receive  me :  how,  if  dead, 

Can  he  receive  me  1  Can  thy  sire  restore 
The  living  to  the  dead  1  Do  thou  revere  980 

Thy  father  and  the  powers  of  heaven  :  perpend 
This  question  : — Would  the  god,  and  he  who  lies 
Beneath  this  hallow’d  tomb,  wish  to  retain 
Another’s  right,  or  wish  to  give  it  back? 

To  give  it  back,  I  think.  Behooves  thee  then  985 
Not  to  regard  thy  brother’s  foolish  wish 
More  than  thy  father’s  honour.  In  the  fates 
If  thou  art  skill’d,  and  hast  o’er  things  divine 
High  charge ;  thy  father’s  justice  shouldst  thou 
wrong, 

And  to  thy  unjust  brother  grant  this  grace  ;  990 

It  were  foul  shame  indeed  that  thou  shouldst  know 
All  things  divine,  what  is,  and  what  is  not, 

And  not  know  justice.  But  with  pity  view 
My  wretched  state,  and  save  me  from  these  ills. 


HELENA.  81 

Through  the  wide  world  is  Helena  abhorr’d,  995 

Bruited  through  Greece  as  to  her  nuptial  bed 
Disloyal,  for  the  pomp  of  splendid  Troy 
Exchanged :  but  should  I  e’er  return  to  Greece, 
Should  I  revisit  Sparta,  they  would  hear, 

Would  see,  that  by  the  illusion  of  the  gods  1000 
They  perish’d,  and  that  I  was  never  false, 

My  friends  betraying:  thus  should  I  regain 
My  fame  of  modesty;  my  daughter  thus 
In  nuptials  give,  whom  no  man  now  will  wed: 

Here  shall  my  cruel  wanderings  end,  and  I  1005 
Once  more  enjoy  the  riches  of  my  house. 

If  he  had  died,  and  on  the  funeral  pile 

Been  laid,  though  distant  far,  my  tears  had  shown 

How  much  I  loved  him :  shall  I  lose  him  now, 

Safe  as  he  is  and  living,  from  me  torn  1  1010 

No,  virgin  :  this,  thy  suppliant,  I  entreat ; 

Grant  me  this  grace,  and  emulate  the  deeds 
Of  thy  just  father.  On  a  child  this  beams 
The  brightest  glory,  when  he  draws  his  birth 
From  an  illustrious  father,  that  he  holds  1015 

The  great  example  always  in  his  view. 

Theon.  Thy  words  move  pity ;  pity  to  thyself 
Is  due  :  but  I  from  Menelaus  would  hear 
With  what  address  he  for  his  life  will  plead. 

Men.  I  at  thy  knees  shall  neither  deign  to  fall,  1020 
Nor  dew  mine  eyes  with  tears  :  my  fame  at  Troy, 

If  now  with  fear  appall’d,  I  should  disgrace. 

They  say  indeed  it  shows  a  generous  mind, 

When  great  misfortunes  press,  to  pour  the  tear  : 
This  generous,  if  aught  generous  it  may  be,  1025 
Shall  not  be  mine :  my  firmness  I  will  hold. 

If  it  seems  good  to  thee  to  save  a  man, 

A  stranger,  who,  with  justice  on  his  side, 

Seeks  to  regain  his  wife,  give  me  my  wife, 

Nay,  further,  save  me  :  if  it  seems  not  good,  1030 
I  shall  not  now  first  learn  what  misery  is, 

And  a  base  woman  thou  wilt  show  thyself. 

But  what  is  worthy  of  me,  what  I  deem 


82 


EURIPIDES. 


Just,  and  what  most  perchance  may  touch  thy  heart, 
That  to  thy  father’s  tomb  1  will  address: —  1035 

Revered  old  man,  who  in  this  miserable  tomb 
Hast  now  thy  mansion,  hear  me ;  give  me  back 
My  wife,  whom  to  thy  justice  Jove  consign’d, 

To  guard  her  for  me.  Thou,  I  know,  wilt  ne’er 
Restore  her  ;  thou  art  dead  :  yet  will  not  she  1040 
Brook  that  her  father,  from  the  dead  invoked, 

Her  father  once  in  glory  high  renown’d, 

Suffer  dishonour  :  hers  is  now  the  power. 

Thee  too,  dread  monarch  of  the  infernal  realms, 

I  to  my  aid  invoke  ;  for  many  dead,  1045 

Who  for  her  sake  fell  by  this  sword  in  war, 

Thou  hast  received  :  thou  hast  thy  prey  :  and  now 
Or  give  them  back  to  heaven’s  ethereal  light, 

Or  force  her,  with  a  virtue  that  outshines 
Her  pious  sire’s,  to  give  me  back  my  wife.  1050 
But  if  you  rend  her  from  me,  what  her  word 
Declared  not,  I  will  speak.  O  virgin,  know, 

That  we  are  bound  by  oath  thy  brother  first 
To  oppose  with  arms  ;  he  then  must  fall,  or  I : 
These  are  plain  words:  but  if  he  dares  not  stand 
The  bloody  contest,  to  destroy  us  bent  1056 

By  famine,  suppliants  at  this  tomb,  my  hand 
Shall  kill  her  ;  that  is  fix’d  ;  through  my  own  breast 
Then  drive  the  trenchant  sword,  ev’n  on  this  tomb, 
That  through  the  sepulchre  our  blood  may  flow.  1060 
Thus  on  this  marble  monument  in  death 
Together  will  we  lie,  eternal  grief 
To  thee,  and  to  thy  father  foul  disgrace : 

For  never  shall  thy  brother  wed  my  wife, 

Another  never  :  I  will  bear  her  with  me,  1065 

If  not  to  Sparta,  to  the  realms  below. 

But  wherefore  this  1  If  I  to  tears  should  melt 
With  female  softness,  piteous  I  should  seem 
Rather  than  dauntless.  Kill  me,  if  thy  will 
Be  such ;  inglorious,  be  thou  well  assured,  1070 
Thou  shalt  not  kill  me.  Rather  let  my  words 
Move  thee:  be  just;  let  me  receive  my  wife. 


HELENA.  83 

Cho.  Thou,  virgin,  f  art  the  umpire  in  this 
cause : 

Let  thy  decision  then  give  joy  to  all. 

Theon.  To  pity  my  nature  and  my  will  1075 
Incline  :♦  myself  I  reverence,  nor  will  stain 
My  father’s  glory;  neither  will  I  grant 
That  to  my  brother,  which  will  mark  my  name 
With  infamy  :  for  Justice  in  my  heart 
Hath  raised  her  ample  shrine  ;  forNereus  this  1080 
I  hold,  and  Menelaus  will  strive  to  save. 

Since  Juno  wills  to  do  thee  grace,  with  her 
Shall  be  my  suffrage  :  Venus  may  I  find 
Propitious  to  me,  though  with  her  I  ne’er 
Held  commerce,  and  my  virgin  purity  1085 

Wish  to  retain.  What  at  this  tomb  thou  said’st 
As  to  my  father  foul  disgrace,  the  same 
I  say :  not  giving  her,  I  were  unjust. 

Were  he  now  living,  he  to  thee  would  give 

Thy  wife,  and  thee  to  her.  Revenge  belongs  1090 

To  those  that  to  the  realms  below  are  sunk, 

And  to  all  men  that  breathe  this  vital  air. 

The  soul  of  the  deceased,  though  now  no  more 

In  life,  amid  the  immortal  ether  holds 

Its  mansion,  and  immortal  sense  retains.  1095 

But,  not  to  lengthen  speech,  at  thy  request 

I  will  be  silent,  nor  where  folly  rules 

Be  aiding  to  my  brother ;  for  his  good 

Thus  shall  I  work,  though  otherwise  he  deem, 

From  impious  deeds  to  Virtue’s  holy  paths  1100 
Recalling  him.  But  how  to  escape,  find  you  : 

I  shall  retire,  my  lips  in  silence  closed. 

But  first  address  the  gods ;  with  suppliant  vows 
To  Venus  her  permission,  that  again 
Thou  to  thy  country  mayst  return,  implore ;  1105 

To  Juno,  that  her  purpose  she  retain, 

Benevolent  to  thee  and  to  thy  wife. 

And  thou,  my  father,  now  among  the  dead, 

Shalt  never,  far  as  I  have  power,  be  call’d 
Impious,  for  piety  while  living  famed. 


1110 


84 


EURIPIDES. 


Cho.  Never  did  blessings  on  the  unrighteous  wait  ; 
But  hopes  of  safety  ne’er  forsake  the  just. 

HELENA,  MENELAUS,  CHORUS. 

Hel.  We  from  the  virgin,  far  as  in  her  lies, 

Have  safety,  Menelaus :  behooves  thee  now 
Sage  counsel,  our  escape  how  best  to  effect.  1115 
Men.  Then  hear  me :  in  this  house  thou  long  hast 
dwelt, 

And  with  the  king’s  attendants  much  hast  lived. 

Hel.  Why  sayst  thou  this  1  Thou  givest  me  hope ; 
thy  thought 

Hath  something  for  our  common  safety  form’d. 

Men.  One,  who  commands  the  coursers  of  the 
king,  1120 

Couldst  thou  persuade  to  intrust  us  with  a  car  ? 

Hel.  Perchance  I  could :  but  how  direct  our  flight, 
The  ways,  and  this  barbaric  land,  unknown  1 
Impossible- 

Men.  Then  place  me  in  the  house, 

Conceal’d  :  the  king  I  with  this  sword  will  slay.  1125 
Hel.  The  virgin  would  not  suffer  this,  nor  bear 
Silent  thy  purpose  ’gainst  her  brother’s  life. 

Men.  I  have  no  bark,  in  which  we  may  be  saved 
By  flying  ;  for  the  sea  hath  swallow’d  mine. 

Hel.  Hear,  if  aught  wise  a  woman  may  propose. 
Wilt  thou  my  words  may  speak  of  thee  as  deadl  1131 
Men.  That  were  an  omen  boding  ill:  yet  thence 
May  aught  be  gain’d,  report  of  me  as  dead. 

Hel.  By  female  wailings,  and  my  tresses  shorn, 

I  may  to  pity  move  this  impious  man.  1135 

Men.  What  hope  of  safety  can  this  give  ?  Indeed, 
It  bears  the  semblance  of  some  ancient  rite. 

Hel.  An  empty  tomb  to  give  thee,  in  the  sea 
As  sunk,  the  tyrant’s  leave  will  I  implore. 

Men.  And,  should  he  grant  it,  how  without  a  bark, 
Raising  this  empty  tomb,  shall  we  be  saved  1  1141 

Hel.  A  bark  too  will  I  ask,  and  what  may  grace 
Thy  tomb  place  in  it,  for  the  embracing  wave. 


HELENA.  85 

Men.  Save  one  thing,  all  is  well :  should  he  on 
land 

Bid  the  tomb  rise,  thy  plea  will  naught  avail.  1145 
Hel.  But  I  will  say,  on  land  our  Grecian  rites 
No  tomb  to  those  who  died  at  sea  allow. 

Men.  This  speaks  success  :  then  with  thee  will  I 
sail, 

And  with  us  bear  the  honours  for  my  tomb. 

Hel.  Thou  must  be  present,  and  thy  mariners,  1150 
Who,  from  the  wreck  escaping,  reach’d  the  shore. 

Men.  And  if  I  find  an  anchor’d  bark,  to  man 
Shall  man  opposed  wave  fierce  the  flaming  sword. 

Hel.  That  to  direct  be  thine  :  but  may  the  gales 
Breathe  favouring,  and  the  vessel  safely  sail!  1155 
Men.  It  will :  the  gods  will  give  my  toils  to  cease. 
But  of  my  death  who  wilt  thou  say  inform’d  thee  1 
Hel.  Thyself,  alone  preserved,  and  with  the  son 
Of  Atreus  sailing,  say  thou  saw’st  him  die. 

Men.  These  tatter’d  vestments  round  my  body 
wrapp’d  f.  1160 

Will  testify  my  wretched  vessel’s  wreck. 

Hel.  They  suit  this  purpose ;  and  thy  loss,  then 
deem’d 

Unhappy,  may  our  better  fortune  work. 

Men.  Should  I  attend  thee  to  this  royal  house, 

Or  take  my  station  silent  at  this  tomb  1  1165 

Hel.  Stay  here  :  for  aught  of  outrage  should  his 
pride 

Attempt,  this  tomb  will  guard  thee,  and  thy  sword. 

I  will  go  in,  cut  off  these  crisped  locks, 

For  sable  change  these  white  robes,  rend  these 
cheeks, 

And  make  them  stream  with  blood ;  for  great  the 
prize  1170 

In  contest,  and  of  doubtful  poise  :  to  die, 

If  in  my  art3  detected  ;  or  once  more 
To  visit  Sparta,  and  to  save  thy  life. 

Q  Juno,  partner  of  the  bed  of  Jove,  1174 

Goddess  revered,  two  wretches  from  their  woes 
Eurip.  Vol.  III. — H 


86 


EURIPIDES. 


Relieve,  we  suppliant  beg  thee,  stretching  thus 
Our  hands  to  yon  star-spangled  sky,  thy  seat. 

And  thou,  who  by  my  nuptials  didst  obtain 
The  prize  of  beauty,  Venus*  crush  me  not  : 

O  daughter  of  Dione,  I  from  thee  1180 

Enough  of  sorrow  have  sustain'd,  my  name, 

Not  person,  ’mong  barbarians  given  by  thee 

To  shameful  note :  permit  me,  if  thy  will 

To  death  devotes  me,  in  my  native  land 

To  die.  But  why  with  mischiefs  is  thy  soul  1185 

Unsated,  loves,  deceits,  and  wily  trains 

Still  working,  and  the  filter’d  bowls  with  blood 

Banefully  mix’d  1  Were  moderation  thine, 

Of  all  the  gods  most  pleasing  wouldst  thou  be 
To  men  :  I  speak  not  this  without  just  cause.  1190 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I. 

On  thee,  high-nested  in  the  museful  shade 
By  close-inwoven  branches  made, 

Thee,  sweetest  bird,  most  m  isical 
Of  all  that  warble  their  melodious  song 

The  charmed  woods  among,  1195 

Thee,  tearful  Nightingale,  I  call : 

O,  come,  and  from  thy  dark-plumed  throat 
Swell  sadly  sweet  thy  melancholy  note. 

Attemper’d  to  my  voice  of  wo, 

For  Helen  let  thy  sorrows  flow,  1200 

For  all  the  griefs  her  breast  that  pain’d, 

For  all  the  toils  that  Troy  sustain’d, 

Where  Misery  pours  the  streaming  tear, 

And  shudders  at  the  Grecian  spear. 

Proudly  the  billows  bounding  o’er,  1205 

He  came,  he  came,  he  reach’d  the  shore ; 

Back  his  barbaric  oars  he  plies, 

From  Sparta’s  strand  to  Phrygia  flies, 

Destined  to  Priam’s  realms  to  bear 
A  darkening  storm,  the  storm  of  war,  1210 


HELENA. 


87 


By  Venus  hapless  Paris  led 
To  seek,  as  thine,  a  fatal  bed. 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

By  rocky  masses  hurtling  in  the  air, 

Beneath  the  sword,  beneath  the  spear, 

Fell  many  Grecians  in  the  fight:  1215 

With  tresses  shorn  their  wives  bewail  the  dead, 
Bewail  their  widow’d  bed. 

Many  the  fatal  blazing  light, 

Which  lonely-sailing  Nauplius  gave, 

And  raised  it  gleaming  o’er  the  Eubcean  wave,  1220 
Led  on  the  rocks  that  lie  below, 

Where  tall  Caphareus  lifts  his  brow; 

Many  on  jEgae’s  sea-beat  shore 
The  treacherous  flame  to  ruin  bore  ; 

Where  its  rude  sides  the  mountain  bends,  1225 
No  friendly  port  its  arms  extends. 

When  from  their  country  on  the  main 
Launch’d  in  proud  pomp  the  Phrygian  train, 
And,  wanton  in  th6ir  swelling  sails, 

Breathed  to  their  wish  the  flattering  gales,  1230 
From  Greece  their  prize,  no  prize,  they  bore, 
But  her  revenge  athirst  for  gore  ; 

A  breathing  phantom  for  the  fair, 

By  Juno  form’d  of  imaged  air. 

STROPHE  II. 

Was  this  then  human,  or  divine  ?  1235 

Did  it  a  middle  nature  share  ? 

What  mortal  shall  declare  1 
Who  shall  the  secret  bounds  define? 

When  the  gods  work,  we  see  their  power ; 

We  see  on  their  high  bidding  wait  1240 

The  prosperous  gales,  the  storms  of  fate  : 

But  who  their  awful  councils  shall  explore  ? 

Thou,  Helen,  art  from  Jove  : 

O’er  Leda’s  breast  spread  heaven’s  high  king, 

In  form  a  swan,  his  silver  wing :  1245 

The  fruit  thou  of  his  love. 


88 


EURIPIDES. 


Yet  Fame  through  Greece  hath  publish’d  wide 
Thee  to  thy  loose  desires  a  prey ; 

That,  truth,  faith,  justice,  heaven  defied, 

Thy  beauty  shines  but  to  betray.  1250 

Nothing  ’mong  mortals  certainty  affords  ; 

But  the  gods  speak,  and  truth  is  in  their  words. 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

Think  you,  fond  men,  whose  martial  pride 
Glows  ’mid  the  bleeding  ranks  of  war, 

By  the  courageous  spear  1255 

The  strife  of  mortals  to  decide! 

Vain  are  your  thoughts  :  should  rage  abhorr’d, 
That  glories  in  the  purple  flood, 

The  contest  only  end  with  blood, 

Unsheathed  through  angry  states  would  flame  the 
sword.  1260 

Outrageous  to  destroy, 

The  spear  hath  desolation  spread, 

With  slaughter  stain’d  the  widow’d  bed, 

And  desolated  Troy. 

Yet  well  might  Reason’s  suasive  charms  1265 
Have  made  each  warring  foe  a  friend  ; 

But  many  in  the  shock  of  arms 
To  Pluto’s  dreary  realms  descend  ; 

Fires,  like  the  flames  of  Jove,  the  walls  surround, 
And  Ilium’s  ramparts  smoke  upon  the  ground.  1270 

THEOCLYMENUS,  CHORUS. 

Theoc.  All  hail,  my  father’s  tomb !  Beside  my 
gate 

Thee,  Proteus,  1  interr’d,  that,  going  out 
And  entering,  Theoclymenus,  thy  son, 

Might  always  greet  thee  with  a  fond  address. 

You,  my  attendants,  of  my  hounds  take  care,  1275 
And  in  the  royal  house  dispose  the  nets. 

Much  I  reproach  myself  that  I  with  death 
The  unfaithful  have  not  punish’d ;  for  I  hear 
That  on  this  coast  some  Grecian  is  arrived, 
Unnoticed  by  my  guards  :  a  spy  he  comes,  1280 


HELENA. 


89 


Or  to  bear  Helena  by  stealth  away  : 

But  let  me  only  take  him,  he  shall  die. 

Ha  !  all  his  purpose,  as  it  seems,  I  find 
Accomplish’d  ;  for  the  Spartan  at  the  tomb 
Hath  left  her  seat,  and  from  this  land  is  sail’d.  1285 
Unbar  the  gates,  ho  !  my  attendant  train  ; 

Harness  my  steeds ;  instant  bring  forth  my  cars ; 
Not  for  a  little  toil  shall  she  escape, 

Borne  hence,  whom  ardently  I  wish  my  bride. 
Forbear  :  the  object  of  my  fond  pursuit  1290 

Present  I  see,  not  fled  as  I  supposed. 

THEOCLYMENUS,  HELENA,  CHORUS,  MENELAUS 

at  the  tomb. 

Theoc.  Why  hast  thou  changed  thy  white  robes 
for  these  black 

And  mourning  weeds  ?  Why  from  thy  noble  head 
Thy  tresses  hast  thou  shorn  1  What  mean  these 
tears 

Fresh  streaming  down  thy  cheeks  ]  Arise  thy 
griefs  1295 

From  some  ill-omen’d  visions  of  the  night, 

Or  from  thy  country  have  bad  tidings  reach’d 
Thine  ear,  that  sorrows  thus  afflict  thy  soul  1 
Hel.  My  lord,  for  by  that  title  now  I  greet  thee, 

I  am  undone,  lost,  sunk,  to  nothing  sunk.  1300 

Theoc.  Wherein  lies  thy  affliction  I  What  hath 

chanced  1 

Hel.  How  shall  I  speak  it]  Menelaus  is  dead. 
Theoc.  In  this  my  fortune  hath  not  less  of  joy. 
How  know’st  thou  I  Did  Theonoe  tell  thee  this  ] 
Hel.  She  did,  and  one  who  present  saw  him  die. 
Theoc.  Hath  one  arrived  to  inform  thee  of  a 
truth  1  1306 

Hel.  One  comes :  O,  had  he,  as  I  wish’d  him, 
come ! 

Theoc.  Who  comes  I  Where  is  he  I  Clearly 
would  I  know. 

Hel.  He  who  sits  trembling  at  this  sacred  tomb. 

H  2 


90 


EURIPIDES. 


Theoc.  Apollo,  how  unsightly  is  his  garb  !  1310 

Hel.  Ah  me  !  methinks  1  see  my  husband  thus. 

Theoc.  Whence  is  this  man  1  How  came  he  to  this 
land  ? 

Hel.  A  Grecian,  one  who  with  my  husband  sail'd. 

Theoc.  What  death,  by  his  report,  died  Menelaus  1 

Hel.  The  death  most  rueful,  in  the  briny  waves. 

Theoc.  Where  ?  As  he  sail’d  on  the  barbaric 
seas?  1316 

Hel.  Forced  by  the  winds  on  Libya’s  portless 
rocks. 

Theoc.  How  then  escaped  this  man,  who  with  him 
sail’d  ? 

Hel.  Oft  are  the  mean  more  lucky  than  the  great. 

Theoc.  Where  the  wreck’d  vessel,  landing,  did  he 
leave  ?  1320 

Hel.  Where,  O,  that  he, not  Menelaus,  had  sunk! 

Theoc.  The  vessel  lost,  how  reach’d  this  man  the 
land? 

Hel.  Chance  brought,  he  says,  some  sailors  to  his 
aid. 

Theoc.  Where  is  the  mischief  sent,  for  thee,  to 
Troy  ?  1324 

Hel.  The  imaged  cloud  ?  It  vanish’d  into  air. 

Theoc.  O  Troy,  0  Priam,  ruin’d  without  cause ! 

Hel.  In  Troy’s  misfortunes  I  have  had  large 
share. 

Theoc.  Unburied  is  thy  husband,  or  entomb’d? 

Hel.  Unburied.  My  afflictions  sink  my  soul. 

Theoc.  Are  thy  bright  tresses  for  this  sorrow 

shorn  ?  1330 

Hel.  O,  he  was  dear,  while  here,  most  dear  to 

me ! 

Theoc.  Is  this  then  a  mischance  well  wail’d  with 
tears  ? 

Hel.  Light  would  thy  grief  be,  should  thy  sister 
die? 

Theoc.  No.  At  this  tomb  wilt  thou  now  hold  thy 
seat? 


HELENA. 


91 


Hel.  Why  taunt  me  thus,  and  not  forbear  the 
dead.  1335 

Theoc.  Me,  to  thy  husband  faithful,  dost  thou  fly. 

Hel.  But  fly  no  more  :  my  nuptials  now  prepare. 

Theoc.  Though  late  it  comes,  thy  yielding  I  ap¬ 
prove. 

Hel.  Know’st  thou  what  should  be  done  1  For¬ 
get  the  past. 

Theoc.  For  what  return  1  Be  grace  with  grace 
repaid.  1340 

Hel.  A  compact  form’d,  be  reconciled  to  me. 

Theoc.  My  anger  flies ;  I  give  it  to  the  air. 

Hel.  Low  at  thy  knees,  since  now  thou  art  my 
friend — 

Theoc.  What  grace,  thus  stretch’d  a  suppliant, 
wouldst  thou  ask  ? 

Hel.  To  honour  my  dead  husband  with  a  tomb. 

Theoc.  What  tomb  to  him  1  Wouldst  thou  en¬ 
tomb  his  shade  1  1346 

Hel.  Greece  hath  a  rite,  whoe’er  at  sea  is  lost — 

Theoc.  What  rite  ?  In  these  things  Greece  is 
deeply  skill’d. 

Hel.  To  give  him  with  rich  vests  an  empty  tomb. 

Theoc.  Perform  these  rites ;  choose  for  his  tomb 
the  ground.  1350 

Hel.  Not  thus  we  bury  the  lost  mariner. 

Theoc.  How  then!  I  am  a  stranger  to  your 
rites. 

Hel.  To  sea  whate’er  becomes  the  dead  we  bear. 

Theoc.  With  what  shall  I  supply  thee  for  the 
dead  ? 

Hel.  I  know  not:  new  the  sad  occasion  to  me. 

Theoc.  [seeing  Menelaus .]  O  stranger,  grateful 
tidings  hast  thou  brought.  1356 

Men.  To  me  not  grateful,  king,  nor  to  the  dead. 

Theoc.  Those  how  inter  you  who  at  sea  are  lost  ? 

Men.  With  honours  such  as  each  hath  means  to 
give. 


92 


EURIPIDES. 


Theoc.  Of  wealth  whate’er  thou  wilt,  for  her  sake, 
speak.  1360 

Men.  First  to  the  shades  below  the  victim  bleeds. 
Theoc.  What  victims  t  Name  them :  those  I 
shall  present. 

Men.  Judge  thou:  whate’er  thou  grantest  will 
suffice. 

Theoc.  A  steed  or  bull  barbaric  rites  require.  1364 
Men.  Whate’er  thou  givest,  generous  let  it  be — 
Theoc.  Of  such  my  fertile  pastures  have  rich 
store. 

Men.  And  empty  couches  for  the  body  spread  ; — 
Theoc.  Those  shall  be  given :  what  do  your  rites 
ask  more  1 

Men.  Arms  of  bright  brass ;  for  he  was  fond  of 
arms ; — 

Theoc.  Worthy  the  race  of  Pelops  will  I  give. 
Men.  And  what  of  beauteous  bloom  the  earth  now 
bears.  1371 

Theoc.  These  in  what  manner  give  you  to  the 
waves  1 

Men.  A  bark  and  rowers  are  for  this  required. 
Theoc.  How  far  from  shore  must  the  bark  hold 
its  course  1 

Men.  Far  as  the  eye  discerns  its  foamy  track.  1375 
Theoc.  This  solemn  custom  why  doth  Greece  ob¬ 
serve  1 

Men.  That  of  the  oblations  none  be  driven  to 
land. 

Theoc.  A  swift  Phoenician  bark  shall  be  prepared. 
Men.  That  would  be  well,  and  grateful  to  the 
dead. 

Theoc.  This,  without  her,  canst  not  thou  well 
perform  1  1380 

Men.  It  is  a  child's,  or  wife’s,  or  mother’s  task. 
Theoc.  She  to  her  husband  then  this  rite  must 
pay! 

Men.  This  piety  requires,  and  not  to  rob 
Of  their  just  rites  the  dead. 


HELENA 


93 


Theoc.  Then  let  her  go  : 

Yes,  to  support  a  pious  wife  is  mine.  1385 

The  house  I  now  will  enter,  and  bring  forth 
The  honours  for  the  dead,  nor  from  this  land 
Send  thee  with  empty  hands :  for  her  dear  sake 
This  will  I  do.  The  tidings  thou  hast  brought 
Are  pleasing  to  me  :  raiment  in  return,  1390 

Throwing  this  mean  garb  off,  shalt  thou  receive, 
And  food,  for  wretched  is  thy  present  state : 

So  to  thy  country  bless’d  shalt  thou  return. 

And  thou,  unhappy,  grieve  not  thou  thy  soul 
At  ills  past  cure  ;  for  Menelaus  is  dead,  1395 

And  never  can  thy  husband  live  again. 

Men.  This,  lady,  now  is  thine :  behooves  thee  love 
Thy  present  husband,  him  that  is  no  more 
Forgetting:  best  thy  fortune  this  beseems. 

If  e’er  in  safety  I  return  to  Greece,  1400 

The  former  foul  reproach,  which  stain’d  thy  fame, 

I  will  wipe  off,  be  thou  but  such  a  wife 
As  to  thy  husband  it  is  meet  thou  be. 

Hel.  Such  shall  I  be :  my  lord  shall  ne’er  have 
cause 

To  blame  me  ;  thou,  here  present,  shalt  of  this  1405 
Thyself  be  witness :  but,  poor  wretch,  go  in, 
Refresh  thee  in  the  bath,  and  change  thy  garb : 

My  kindness  shall  not  linger  :  with  more  zeal 
To  my  loved  Menelaus  wilt  thou  perform 
These  rites,  from  us  receiving  what  is  meet.  1410 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I. 

In  times  of  old,  with  eager  haste 
The  mountain  mother  of  the  gods 
Through  thick-entangled  forests  pass’d, 

Along  the  banks  of  streaming  floods, 

1411  This  ode  was  probably  intended  as  a  compliment  to  the 
Athenians  for  the  veneration  in  which  they  held  the  mysterious 
rites  of  Ceres ;  the  neglect  of  which  is  said  in  the  second  anti¬ 
strophe  to  have  been  the  cause  of  Helena’s  misfortunes. 


94 


EURIPIDES. 


And  where  the  beating  billows  roar  1415 

Against  the  hoarse-resounding  shore  : 

The  virgin  of  unutterable  name 

She  fondly  sought ;  and  deepening  round 
The  Bacchic  cymbals  loud  resound 
(As  in  her  lion-harness’d  car  she  came)  1420 

The  virgin,  to  rude  force  a  prey, 

Borne  from  her  circling  nymphs  away. 
Attendant  on  the  mighty  mother  go, 

Swift  as  the  winds,  the  virgins  of  the  skies; 

Diana,  with  her  silver  bow  ;  1425 

And  Pallas,  prompt  her  spear  to  wield, 

The  Gorgon  frowning  on  her  shield. 

From  heaven’s  high  throne  Jove  roll’d  his  awful 
eyes, 

And,  fix’d  the  purpose  of  his  mind, 

A  different  fate  assigned  :  1430 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

When  now,  her  weary  wanderings  o’er, 

The  anxious  mother  ceased  her  toil; 

For  vain  each  secret  pass  to  explore  ; 

Her  daughter  fraud  had  made  its  spoil  : 

She  pass’d  o’er  Ida’s  craggy  brow,  1435 

Cold  nurse  of  everlasting  snow, 

Haunt  of  the  nymphs  ;  and,  to  her  grief  a  prey, 

Her  limbs  upon  the  damp  weeds  threw, 

Which  ’mid  the  rocky  rudeness  grew  ; 

Forbad  the  corn  the  ploughman’s  toil  to  obey  ;  1440 
Its  verdure  to  the  earth  denied  ; 

Famine  ensued,  and  mortals  died. 

No  more  the  spreading  foliage  waves  around  ; 

The  flocks  no  more  the  gadding  tendrils  graze, 

But  perish  on  the  unfaithful  ground  :  1445 

No  more  the  victim  at  the  shrine 
Is  offered  to  the  powers  divine  ; 

The  hallow’d  cakes  no  more  on  altars  blaze  : 

1417  It  was  not  allowed  to  mention  the  name  of  Proserpine, 
lest  it  should  renew  the  grief  of  Ceres. 


HELENA. 


95 


She  gives  the  freshing  founts  no  more 

Their  crystal  streams  to  pour  1450 

STROPHE  II. 

To  men  below,  to  gods  above, 

When  she  had  caused  the  feast  to  cease, 

The  mourning  mother’s  wrath  to  appease, 
Benign  thus  spoke  imperial  Jove 

“  Ye  honour’d  Graces,  go,  1455 

To  Ceres  go,  whose  anguish’d  soul 
Indignant  mourns  her  daughter  lost ; 

Go,  with  soft  notes  her  cares  control, 

And  mitigate  her  wo. 

And  you,  Aonia’s  tuneful  boast,  1460 

Ye  Muses,  go,  swell  high  the  choral  song ; 

The  brazen  cymbal  take. 

The  deep-toned  timbrel  wake  ; 

Till  sorrow  is  no  more,  the  strain  prolong.” 

First  ’mid  the  heavenly  powers  with  lovely  grace 
The  pipe  bright  Venus  taking  in  her  hand,  1466 
Flush’d  with  a  roseate  smile  her  glowing  face, 
Pleased  with  the  varying  notes  its  stops  command. 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

What  neither  faith  nor  laws  approve, 

Unholy  flames  hast  thou  inspired  :  1470 

These,  her  fierce  wrath  against  thee  fired, 
The  mighty  mother’s  vengeance  move. 

Nor  to  the  powers  divine 
Hast  thou,  my  child,  due  honours  paid. 

Much  would  avail  the  spotted  vest,  1475 

With  the  fawn’s  skin  wert  thou  array’d  ; 

Much,  with  the  ivy-twine 
Green- wreathing  round  the  thyrsus  dress’d; 
Much,  the  light  vestments  waving  in  the  air, 

While  round  in  many  a  ring  1480 

Their  floating  folds  they  fling ; 

Much,  streaming  to  the  wind  the  Bacchic  hair ; 
Much,  to  the  goddess  given  the  sleepless  nights: 

To  her  the  moon  is  dearer  than  the  days. 

Thou  hast  neglected  all  her  hallow’d  rites,  1485 
Proud  of  the  charms  thy  beauteous  form  displays, 


96 


EURIPIDES. 


HELENA,  CHORUS. 

Hel.  Within  the  house  all  hath  gone  well,  my 
friends  : 

The  daughter  too  of  Proteus,  our  designs 
Concealing,  to  the  king’s  inquiries  made 
Touching  my  husband  present  there,  replied,  1490 
To  do  me  favour,  that  this  vital  air 
He  breathed  no  more,  nor  view’d  the  sun’s  bright 
beams. 

And  well  my  husband  the  advantage  seized 
Presented  to  him ;  for  he  bears  himself 
The  arms  devoted  to  the  waves,  the  shield  1495 
On  his  strong  arm  he  holds,  and  grasps  the  spear 
In  his  right  hand,  as  with  me  to  perform 
These  honours  to  the  dead  :  well  is  he  arm’d 
To  deeds  of  valour,  and  his  hand  will  raise 
A  thousand  trophies  of  barbarians  slain,  1500 

When  we  ascend  the  oar-directed  bark. 

His  sailor’s  garb  exchanged,  he  is  array’d 
In  radiant  vests,  my  gift ;  and  in  the  bath 
Refresh’d,  to  the  pure  stream  a  stranger  long. — 
But  from  the  house  he  comes,  who  fondly  deems 
He  holds  my  nuptials  ready  in  his  hands.  1506 
I  must  be  silent  now,  on  thy  good-will 
And  secrecy  relying  ;  that  if  hence 
We  may  be  saved,  you  some  time  we  may  save. 

HELENA,  THEOCLYMENUS,  MENELAUS,  CHORUS,  ATTEND¬ 
ANTS. 

Theoc.  In  order,  as  this  stranger  shall  appoint, 
Proceed,  my  servants,  bearing  to  the  sea  1511 
These  honours  to  the  dead.  Thou,  Helena, 

If  not  amiss  thou  deem  what  I  shall  speak, 

Be  thou  advised  :  stay  here ;  these  things  alike 
Thou  to  thy  husband,  present,  will  perform,  1515 
Or  if  not  present ;  for  I  fear  for  thee, 

Lest,  urged  by  thy  impassion’d  grief,  thou  cast 
Thyself  into  the  ocean’s  swelling  wave, 


HELENA. 


97 


In  wild  distraction  for  thy  husband  lost ; 

For  bitterly  his  loss  dost  thou  lament.  1520 

Hel.  Of  my  illustrious  husband,  I  perforce 
My  wedded  converse,  and  my  former  bed 
Must  honour  :  for  the  love  I  bear  my  lord, 

I  could  die  with  him  ;  but  to  him  what  grace 
To  add  my  death  to  his  1  Permit  me  then  1525 
Myself  to  go,  and  to  the  dead  present 
These  sad  sepulchral  honours  :  and  to  thee 
May  the  gods  give  ev’n  all  my  soul  can  wish, 

And  to  this  stranger,  for  his  friendly  aid. 

But  me  thou  in  thine  house  shalt  have  a  wife,  1530 
Such  as  thou  shouldst  have,  for  thy  goodness  shown 
To  Menelaus  and  me  ;  for  these  things  touch 
My  heart.  But  give  command  that  one  provide 
The  bark,  in  which  these  presents  we  may  bear, 

That  so  thy  grace  complete  I  may  receive.  1535 

Theoc.  Go  thou,  provide  them  a  Sidonian  bark 
Of  fifty  oars,  with  all  its  naval  train. 

Hel.  Shall  he  command  it,  who  adorns  the  tomb  ? 

Theoc.  Him  should  my  mariners  in  chief  obey. 

Hel.  Again  command,  that  clearly  they  may 
know.  1540 

Theoc.  Again,  a  third  time,  if  it  pleases  thee. 

Hel.  Bless’d  mayst  thou  be,  and  I  in  my  intents. 

Theoc.  But  do  not  now  too  much  dissolve  in  tears. 

Hel.  This  day  to  thee  my  grateful  soul  shall 
show. 

Theoc.  Care  for  the  dead  is  naught  but  empty 
toil.  '  1545 

Hel.  My  cares  in  part  are  there,  in  part  are  here. 

Theoc.  Thou  shalt  not  find  me  worse  than  Mene¬ 
laus. 

Hel.  In  naught  I  blame  thee,  be  but  Fortune  kind. 

Theoc.  Thou  mayst  command  it,  give  me  but  thy 
love. 

Hel.  I  am  not  now  to  learn  to  love  my  friends. 

Theoc.  Wilt  thou  that  I  assist  to  launch  the 
bark  1  1551  , 

Eurip.  Vol.  III. — I 


98 


EURIPIDES. 


Hel.  Be  not  a  servant  to  thy  servants,  king. 

Theoc.  Well;  from  the  Grecian  rites  then  I  ab¬ 
stain  : 

My  house  is  unpolluted,  for  not  here 

Died  Menelaus.  Go  one  of  you,  give  charge,  1555 

That  to  my  house  my  prefects  bring  whate’er 

May  do  my  nuptials  honour  ;  it  is  meet 

That  all  my  land  with  joyful  songs  resound 

My  hymeneal  rites,  and  Helena’s, 

And  grace  them  with  their  due  solemnity.  1560 
Thou,  stranger,  to  the  winding  ocean  go, 

These  presents  to  her  former  husband  give, 

Then  to  my  house  haste  back,  and  with  thee  bring 
My  bride,  that  thou  mayst  celebrate  with  me 
My  nuptials  :  to  thy  country  then  return,  1565 
Or  stay,  thy  life  with  happiness  here  bless’d. 

MENELAUS,  HELENA,  CHORUS. 

Men.  O  Jove  (the  father  thou  art  call’d,  a  god 
Supremely  wise),  incline  thine  eyes  to  us, 

Relieve  us  from  our  toils,  grant  us  thy  aid, 

Now  drawing  our  afflictions  up  the  steep.  1570 
Do  thou  but  touch  us  with  thy  hand,  the  height 
Of  fortune,  where  we  wish,  we  soon  shall  reach. 
Enough  of  toils  already  have  we  borne. 

Hear  me,  ye  gods ;  much  of  affliction,  much 
Of  sorrow  you  have  heard  :  beneath  a  load  1575 
Of  ills  not  always  should  1  sink,  but  now 
At  length  stand  firm  :  grant  me  but  this  one  grace, 
With  blessings  all  my  future  life  you  crown. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I. 

Thou  swift  Phoenician  bark,  whose  prow 
Gives  birth  to  billows  on  the  foaming  tide,  1589 
Joying  the  furrow’d  waves  to  plough, 

And  ’mid  the  dolphins’  sportive  train  to  glide; 

While  o’er  the  bosom  of  the  deep 
Friendly  the  gales  soft-breathing  sweep, 


HELENA. 


99 

1585 


And  the  calm  daughter  of  the  azure  main 
Thus  speaks : — “  Secure,  ye  naval  train, 

To  Ocean’s  winds  your  spreading  sails  display : 

Now  firmly  grasp,  now  ply  your  oars  ; 

To  realms,  where  Perseus  reign’d,  convey 
Your  charge,  and  land  her  safe  on  rich  Mycenae’s 
shores.” 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

Mayst  thou,  the  river’s  stream  beside, 

The  slow-revolving  years  in  absence  pass’d, 

Or  nigh  the  dome’s  brass-glittering  pride, 

The  daughters  of  Leucippus  reach  at  last ; 

Or  sports  amid  the  nightly  train 
To  Hyacinthus  hold  again  : 

Him,  as  the  disk  with  erring  force  he  threw, 
Lamented  youth,  Apollo  slew. 

The  son  of  Jove,  with  many  a  solemn  rite, 

The  day  to  Sparta  hallow’d  named. 

There  may  Ihy  daughter  bless  thy  sight, 

For  whom  no  bridal  torch  with  joyful  light 
flamed. 

STROPHE  II. 

O,  might  we  through  the  liquid  sky 
Wing’d,  like  the  birds  of  Lydia,  fly, 

Birds,  which  the  change  of  seasons  know  ;  1605 
And,  left  the  wintry  storms  and  snow, 

Their  leader’s  well-known  call  obey  : 

O’er  many  a  desert  dry  and  cultured  plain 
He  guides  the  marshall’d  train, 

And  cheers  with  jocund  notes  their  way.  1610 
Ye  birds  that  through  the  aerial  height 
Your  course  with  clouds  light-sailing  share, 
Your  flight  amid  the  Pleiads  hold. 

And  where  Orion  nightly  flames  in  gold  ; 

1594  From  them  the  virgins,  priestesses  of  Hilaira  and 
Phoebe,  who  were  daughters  of  Apollo,  and  the  wives  of  Castor 
and  Pollux,  were  called  Leucippides. 

1603  The  migration  of  the  cranes  is  here  finely  described. 


1590 

1595 

1600 

hath 


100 


EURIPIDES. 


Then  on  Eurotas’  bank  alight,  1615 

And  this  glad  message  bear  : — 

“  Your  king  from  Troy  shall  reach  once  more, 
With  conquest  crown’d,  his  native  shore.” 

ANTISTROPIIE  II. 

Ye  sons  of  Tyndarus,  side  by  side, 

As  in  a  car  your  coursers  guide,  1620 

Descending  from  the  ethereal  sky, 

Where  whirling  shine  the  stars  on  high. 

Your  bright  abode.  0,  come,  and  save 
Your  sister  sailing  o’er  the  azure  main  ; 

Its  swelling  tide  restrain,  1625 

Its  angry-rolling,  foamy  wave  : 

The  bark,  that  wafts  her  o’er  the  floods, 

Give  the  soft  gales  to  attend  from  Jove  ; 

And  from  the  voice  of  slanderous  blame 
Defend  the  honour  of  her  injured  name  ;  1630 

Injured  e’er  since,  in  Ida’s  woods, 

For  beauty’s  prize  the  rivals  strove. 

She  ne’er  in  Priam’s  realms  appear’d. 

Nor  Ilium’s  towers  by  Phoebus  rear’d. 

THEOCLYMENUS,  MESSENGER,  CHORUS. 

Mes.  Well  have  I  found  thee  at  thy  house,  O  king, 
That  of  new  ills  thou  soon  mayst  be  inform’d.  1636 
Theoc.  What  are  they  1 

Mes.  Nuptials  with  some  other  bride 

Emprise,  for  Helen  from  this  land  is  fled.  • 

Theoc.  Flying  on  wings,  or  walking  on  the 
ground  1 

Mes.  Her  Menelaus  hath  borne  by  sea  away,  1640 
Coming  himself  with  tidings  of  his  death. 

Theoc.  Strange  and  incredible  thy  words :  what 
bark 

Hath  stretch’d  its  sails  to  bear  him  from  this  land  ? 
Mes.  That  which  thou  gavest  the  stranger  :  know, 
in  brief, 

Having  thy  mariners,  he  went  on  board.  1645 

Theoc.  How  can  this  be  1  lam  on  fire  to  know. 


HELENA. 


101 


That  one  should  master  such  a  numerous  crew, 
With  which  I  sent  thee  :  this  surpasses  thought. 

Mes.  When  Jove-born  Helen  left  this  royal  house, 
And  to  the  sea  advanced,  with  artful  guile  1650 
Softly  she  set  her  dainty  foot,  and  mourn’d 
Her  husband  near  her  present,  and  not  dead. 

When  to  the  station  of  thy  ships  we  came, 

A  prime  Sidonian  vessel  we  drew  down 

Of  fifty  benches  and  of  fifty  oars :  1655 

Then  task  succeeded  task ;  one  raised  the  mast, 

One  fix’d  the  oar  and  tried  the  stroke,  the  sails 
Were  hoisted,  and  the  helm  with  chains  let  down. 
Amid  these  toils,  some  Grecians  we  observed, 

Who  plough’d  with  Menelaus  the  stormy  seas,  1660 
Advancing  to  the  strand  :  their  garb  was  that 
Of  shipwreck’d  sailors  ;  manly  was  their  port, 

But  squalid  their  appearance  :  when  the  son 
Of  Atreus  saw  them  present,  thus  he  spoke, 

Making  false  show  of  pity  : — “  Wretched  men,  1665 
How  came  you  hither,  from  what  Grecian  bark 
Wreck’d  in  the  waves  1  Will  you  the  mournful  rites 
To  the  lost  son  of  Atreus  with  me  pay, 

Whom  Helen  honours  with  an  empty  tomb, 

His  corse  not  present  1”  They,  in  fraudful  guise  1670 
Dropping  the  tear,  ascend  the  bark,  and  bear 
To  Menelaus  the  oblations,  in  the  sea 
Devoted  to  be  sunk.  To  us  this  seem’d 
Suspicious,  and  our  thoughts  we  mention’d  each 
To  other,  when  we  saw  the  numerous  train  1675 
Enter  the  ship  ;  but  we  restrain’d  our  tongues, 
Obedient  to  thy  words  :  for  when  thou  gavest 
Thy  mandate  that  the  stranger  should  command 
The  vessel,  all  these  things  didst  thou  confound. 
Thy  presents  in  the  bark  with  ease  we  placed,  1680 
All  but  the  bull;  he  started  from  the  planks, 

And  roar’d,  and  roll’d  his  glaring  eyes  around. 
Arching  his  back,  and  threatening  with  his  horns, 
That  none  dared  touch  him.  Helen’s  husband  then 
Thus  call’d  aloud ; — “  O  you,  who  rent  the  towers 

12 


102 


EURIPIDES. 


Of  Ilium  to  the  ground,  will  you  not  seize,  1686 
As  Grecians  wont,  this  bull,  and  to  the  ship 
His  body  on  your  youthful  shoulders  bear  I 
A  victim  to  the  dead  beneath  my  sword 
Soon  shall  he  bleed.”  Encouraged  by  his  voice, 
They  seized  the  bull,  they  raised  him  from  the 
ground,'  1691 

And  bore  him  up  the  planks,  while  Menelaus, 
Stroking  his  neck,  bound  with  one  golden  cord, 
Soothed  him  to  go  on  board.  When  now  the  bark 
Had  all  its  stores  received,  with  delicate  foot,  1695 
Helen,  the  steps  ascending,  took  her  seat 
On  the  mid  deck,  and  Menelaus,  his  name 
Not  yet  acknowledged,  near  her:  at  the  sides 
The  others,  on  the  right  and  on  the  left 
In  equal  numbers  man  ’gainst  man  arranged,  1700 
Bearing  beneath  their  vests  their  swords  conceal’d. 
The  rowers  to  their  marshal’s  cheering  shout 
Their  shout  return’d.  When  now  the  open  sea 
WTe  gain’d,  yet  from  the  land  not  distant  far, 

The  pilot  ask’d,  “  0  stranger,  should  we  sail  1705 
Yet  onward,  or  is  this  enough  1”  He  said, 

“  This  is  enough  for  me  then  grasp’d  his  sword 
In  his  right  hand, and  to  the  prow  advanced; 

There  standing  near  the  bull,  but  of  the  dead 
No  mention  made,  deep  in  his  neck  he  plunged  1710 
The  sword,  and  pray’d, — “  Great  monarch  of  the 
main, 

Neptune,  who  dwellest  deep  beneath  the  waves  ; 
And  you,  chaste  train  of  Nereids,  from  this  land 
To  Nauplia’s  harbour  bear  me  safe,  and  bear  DS 
My  wife  uninjured  !”  Gushing  to  the  sea,  1715 
The  streams  of  blood  gave  to  the  stranger  signs 
Of  glad  presage.  Then  each  express’d  his  thought 

1687  The  bull  was  usually  led  to  the  altar  by  the  horns  :  if 
he  went  reluctantly,  it  was  deemed  an  ill  omen ;  in  which  case 
some  young  men  seized  him,  and  carried  him  on  their  shoul¬ 
ders  :  one  single  cord  was  bound  around  his  neck ;  this  was  gilt, 
and  adorned  with  flowers. 


HELENA. 


103 


Of  foul  deceit.  “  To  Naxia  let  us  steer 

Our  backward  course ;  give  thou  command,  and  thou 

The  rudder  turn.”  Then  at  the  slaughter’d  bull  1720 

The  son  of  Atreus  standing,  cried  aloud 

To  his  associates, — “  Why,  ye  flower  of  Greece, 

Why  this  delay  1  On  these  barbarians  rush  ; 

Kill  them,  despatch  them,  hurl  them  from  the  ship 
Into  the  waves.”  To  this  opposed,  a  voice  1725 
Thy  sailors  cheer’d, — “  Will  you  not  seize  what 
chance 

Presents  of  arms  1  one  snatch  a  pole,  and  one 
A  broken  plank  ;  raise  you  your  oars,  and  smite 
These  hostile  strangers ;  crush  their  bleeding  heads.” 
All  started  up,  these  bearing  in  their  hands  1730 
The  naval  instruments,  and  those  their  swords. 

The  vessel  stream’d  with  blood ;  and  from  the  stern 
The  voice  of  Helena  to  daring  deeds 
Inflamed  them  : — “  Where  your  glory  won  at  Troy  1 
Show  it  to  these  barbarians.”  In  their  haste  1735 
Some  fell,  and  those  that  stood  thou  soon  might’st  see 
Rolling  in  blood.  But  Menelaus,  array’d 
In  arms,  observing  his  associate  band 
Where  most  annoy’d,  ran  thither  with  his  sword 
In  his  right  hand,  that  leaping  from  the  ship  1740 
Our  sailors  plunged  into  the  sea,  the  oars 
Deserted  by  the  rowers.  To  the  helm 
The  king  then  went,  and  bade  them  steer  the  bark 
To  Greece  :  the  mast  was  raised  ;  a  favouring  wind 
Arose;  and  proudly  from  this  land  they  sail.  1745 
Flying  the  carnage,  I,  the  anchor  near, 

Let  myself  down,  and  dropp’d  into  the  sea : 

There  as  I  struggled,  from  a  fishing-boat 
One  threw  his  line,  and  brought  me  safe  to  land, 

To  tell  thee  this.  Naught  to  man’s  welfare  more 
Avails,  than  disbelief  by  prudence  ruled.  1751 

Cho.  That  Menelaus,  here  present,  should  escape 
Thy  knowledge,  king,  and  ours,  was  ne’er  my 
thought. 

Theoc.  I  am  betray’d  and  ruin’d  (wretched  me  !) 


104 


EURIPIDES. 


By  woman’s  arts :  my  nuptials,  my  fond  hopes,  1755 
Are  lost.  If  by  pursuit  their  flying  bark 
Might  be  o’ertaken,  I  would  spare  no  toil, 

But  quickly  seize  the  strangers.  My  revenge 
Shall  now  fall  heavy  on  my  sister’s  head : 

She  hath  deceived  me  ;  in  my  house  she  saw  1760 
This  Menelaus,  and  told  me  not ;  her  voice 
Henceforth  shall  ne’er  deceive  another  man. 

Cho.  Ah,  whither,  to  what  slaughter  dost  thou 
haste  1 

Theoc.  Where  Justice  calls  me ;  but  stand  you 
away. 

Cho.  No  ;  on  thy  robes,  my  lord,  I  still  will  hang, 
For  thou  art  hastening  to  prodigious  ills.  1766 

Theoc.  Slave  as  thou  art,  wilt  thou  control  thy 
lord  1 

Cho.  Yet  is  my  purpose  friendly. 

Theoc.  Not  to  me. 

But  let  me  go — 

Cho.  We  will  not  let  thee  go. 

Theoc.  To  slay  my  wicked  sister. 

Cho.  Say  not  so.  1770 

She  is  most  holy. 

Theoc.  Hath  she  not  betray’d  me  1 

Cho.  With  honour,  doing  thus  a  righteous  deed. 

Theoc.  And  to  another  given  my  bride  1 

Cho.  To  one, 

That  hath  a  juster  right. 

Theoc.  Who  hath  a  right 

O’er  what  is  mine  1 

Cho.  He  from  her  father’s  hand  1775 

Who  as  his  bride  received  her. 

Theoc.  But  to  me 

Did  Fortune  give  her. 

Cho.  And  resistless  Fate 

Took  her  away. 

Theoc.  In  my  affairs  to  judge 

Becomes  not  thee. 

Cho.  If  honour  prompts  my  words. 


HELENA. 


105 


Theoc.  I  am  a  slave  then  here,  it  seems,  not  lord. 

Cho.  What  she  hath  done  is  holy ;  so  I  judge.  1781 

Theoc.  Thou  seem’st  to  have  an  ardent  wish  to 
die. 

Cho.  Kill  me  :  thy  sister  never  shalt  thou  kill 
With  our  consent.  Kill  me  :  to  generous  slaves 
It  is  a  glory  for  their  lords  to  die.  1785 

CASTOR  AND  POLLUX. 

Restrain  thy  anger,  Theoclymenus, 

King  of  this  land  :  it  drives  thee  headlong  on, 
Beyond  the  bounds  of  right.  The  sons  of  Jove, 
Whom  Leda  bore,  with  Helen,  from  thy  house 
Now  fled,  speak  to  thee.  Rage  inflames  thy  heart 
For  nuptials  not  allow’d  thee  by  the  Fates.  1791 
The  daughter  of  the  Nereid,  nymph  divine, 
Theonoe,  thy  sister,  doth  to  thee 
No  wrong,  the  sacred  councils  of  the  gods 
Revering,  and  her  father’s  just  commands :  1795 

For  in  thy  house  right  was  it  she  should  dwell 
Ev’r>  to  the  present  time  :  but  since  the  towers 
Of  Troy  are  sunk  in  dust,  and  to  the  gods 
Enough  her  name  is  lent,  she  ought  not  now 
In  these  new  nuptials  to  be  held,  but  go  1800 

To  her  own  house,  and  with  her  husband  live. 

Keep  thy  sword  sheathed,  nor  touch  thy  sister’s  life, 
And  think  that  prudence  was  in  this  her  guide. 

We  would  have  saved  our  sister  long  ere  this, 

Since  Jove  hath  made  us  gods,  but  we  perforce  1805 
Submitted  to  the  stronger  power  of  Fate, 

And  to  those  gods,  whose  will  decreed  that  thus 
These  things  should  be.  These  words  I  speak  to 
thee. 

Now  to  my  sister  I  address  my  speech  : — 

Sail  with  thy  husband  ;  you  shall  have  a  wind  1810 
Favouring  your  voyage  ;  riding  nigh  the  sea, 

We,  thy  twin-brothers,  will  be  guards  to  thee, 

And  guide  thee  to  thy  country.  When  thy  course 
Shall  end,  and  thou  shalt  quit  this  mortal  life. 


106 


EURIPIDES. 


Thoushalt  be  call’d  a  goddess,  with  the  sons  1815 

Of  Jove  receive  libations,  and  with  us 

The  honours  share  :  such  is  the  will  of  Jove. 

But  where  the  son  of  Maia  lodged  thee  first, 

When  from  the  heavenly  mansions  he  came  down, 
From  Sparta  to  convey  thee,  and  to  guard  1820 
Thy  nuptial  bed  from  Paris  ;  that  strong  isle, 
Stretch’d  like  a  bulwark  towards  the  Attic  coast, 

In  future  ages  shall  from  mortals  bear 
The  name  of  Helena,  because  it  gave  thee 
A  refuge,  from  thy  house  in  secret  borne.  1825 
But  to  the  wandering  Menelaus  the  gods 
The  island  of  the  bless’d,  by  Fate’s  decree, 

Assign  his  mansion  :  for  the  immortal  powers 
Look  not  with  hatred  on  the  generous  spirit ; 

But  to  severer  toils  the  ignoble  doom.  1830 

Theoc.  Ye  sons  of  Leda  and  of  Jove,  I  cease 
My  contest  for  your  sister,  nor  ’gainst  mine 
Will  I  unsheath  my  sword.  Let  her  go  home, 

If  this  be  pleasing  to  the  gods :  and  know, 

You  have  a  sister,  from  the  same  high  race  1835 
With  you  derived,  the  wisest  and  the  best 
Of  all  her  sex.  Farewell,  for  Helen’s  sake, 

And  for  the  sake  of  her  most  generous  mind ; 

An  excellence  in  woman  seldom  found. 

Cho.  With  various  hand  the  gods  dispense  our 
fates ;  1840 

Now  showering  various  blessings,  which  our  hopes 
Dared  not  aspire  to ;  now  controlling  ills 
We  deem’d  inevitable :  thus  the  god 
To  these  hath  given  an  end  exceeding  thought. 

Such  is  the  fortune  of  this  happy  day.  1845 


E  L  E  C  T  R  A, 


r 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS. 


Auturgus. 

Electra. 

Orestes. 

Pylades. 

Tutor. 

ClytemnesTra. 

Messenger. 

Castor  and  Poli.ux. 

Chorus  of  Mycenaean  virgins. 


1 


E  L  E  C  T  R  A. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  life  of  the  infant  Orestes  is  preserved  from  the  machina¬ 
tions  of  his  mother  and  her  paramour  by  the  vigilance  of  his 
sister  Electra,  who  causes  him  to  be  privately  intrusted  to  the 
care  of  Strophius,  king  of  Phocis.  This  monarch  treats  him 
with  the  utmost  tenderness,  and  educates  him  with  his  own 
son,  Pylades  ;  and  hence  an  indissoluble  friendship  is  formed 
between  the  young  men.  Arrived  at  years  of  maturity,  Ores¬ 
tes  determines  to  revenge  his  father’s  death  ;  and,  with  this 
design,  accompanied  by  Pylades,  arrives  in  disguise  at  the 
court  of  Mycenae,  where  he  finds  Electra,  forcibly  wedded  to 
a  peasant  by  the  adulterous  pair,  dwelling  in  a  sordid  cottage, 
and  compelled  to  the  performance  of  menial  offices.  Here  he 
is  recognised  by  an  old*  tutor,  by  whose  advice  he  slays  ^Egis- 
thus  at  a  public  sacrifice,  and  afterward  stabs  his  mother  at 
the  instigation  of  Electra.  No  sooner,  however,  has  he  com¬ 
pleted  the  horrid  deed,  than  he  is  struck  with  remorse  at  the 
guilt  which  he  has  thereby  contracted  ;  when  Castor  and  Pol¬ 
lux  descend  from  the  skies,  and  recommend  him  immediately 
to  repair  to  Athens,  seek  the  protection  of  Minerva,  and  ex¬ 
piate  the  murder  of  his  mother  by  an  acquittal  at  the  court  of 
Areopagus,  after  bestowing  his  sister  in  marriage  on  his  friend 
Pylades. — [The  scene  is  in  the  royal  palace  at  Argos.] 


AUTURGUS. 

Thou  ancient  glory  of  this  land,  famed  stream 
Of  Inachus,  thou  saw’st  the  mighty  host, 

When  in  a  thousand  ships  to  Phrygia’s  strand 
The  royal  Agamemnon  bore  the  war. 

The  Dardan  monarch  slain,  the  towers  of  Troy  $ 
Eurip.  Vol.  III. — K 


110 


EURIPIDES. 


And  the  proud  city  levell’d  with  the  ground, 

To  Argos  he  return’d,  and  many  spoils, 

From  the  barbarians  rent,  triumphant  fix’d 
In  the  high  temples.  There  his  toils  were  crown’d 
With  conquest ;  but  by  Clytemnestra’s  wiles,  10 
His  wife,  and  by  JSgisthus’  murdering  hand, 

Son  of  Thyestes,  in  his  house  he  died  ; 

Leaving  the  ancient  sceptre,  from  the  hands  , 

Of  Tantalus  to  him  derived,  he  fell ; 

And  now  ./Egisthus  lords  it  o’er  the  land,  15 

His  royal  throne  possessing,  and  his  wife, 

Daughter  of  Tyndarus.  He,  when  for  Troy 
He  sail’d,  his  son  Orestes  in  his  house 
And  young  Electra’s  budding  beauties  left. 

Orestes,  by  ADgisthus  mark’d  for  death,  20 

The  guardian  of  his  father’s  youth  by  stealth 
To  Strophius  bore,  that  in  the  Phocian  land 
He  might  protect  him.  In  her  father’s  house 
Remain’d  Electra:  her,  when  youth’s  warm  bloom  24 
Glow’d  on  her  cheek,  the  high-born  chiefs  of  Greece 
In  marriage  sought :  through  fear  lest  she  should 
bear 

To  any  Argive  sons  that  might  revenge 
The  death  of  Agamemnon,  in  the  house 
AEgisthus  held  her,  and  repulsed  the  suit 
Of  every  wooer.  But  his  gloomy  fears  30 

Still  prompting  that  by  stealth  she  might  bear  sons 
To  one  of  noble  lineage,  he  resolved 
To  kill  her;  but  her  mother,  though  her  soul 
Was  fierce  and  ruthless,  saved  her  from  his  hands  : 
She  for  her  husband's  murder  had  some  plea  35 
To  urge,  but  dreaded  from  her  children’s  blood 
Public  abhorrence.  Then  ^Egisthus  framed 
These  villanous  designs  ;  he  offer’d  gold, 

The  son  of  Agamemnon,  from  this  land 
Escaped,  whoe’er  would  kill :  to  me  espoused  40 
He  gives  Electra.  From  Mycenae  sprung 
My  parents  ;  thus  far  no  reproach  is  mine ; 

My  race  illustrious,  but  not  bless’d  with  wealth ; 


ELECTRA. 


Ill 


And  poverty  obscures  my  noble  birth  : 

To  one  thus  sunk  he  gave  her,  that  his  fears  45 
Might  likewise  sink ;  for  should  she  wed  a  man 
Whose  high  rank  gives  him  lustre,  he  might  rouse 
The  murder  of  her  father,  sleeping  now, 

And  vengeance  then  might  onJEgisthus  fall. 

Yet,  Venus  be  my  witness,  by  my  touch  50 

She  hath  not  been  dishonour’d  :  she  is  still 
A  virgin  :  in  my  humble  state  I  scorn 
Such  insult  to  the  daughters  of  the  great. 

I  grieve  too  for  Orestes,  hapless  youth, 

To  me  in  words  allied,  should  he  return  55 

To  Argos,  and  behold  his  sister  placed 
In  marriage  so  unworthy  of  her  birth. 

This  some  may  deem  a  folly,  to  receive 
A  virgin  in  my  house,  and  touch  her  not : 

But  let  such  know,  that  by  distorted  rules  60 

They  measure  continence,  themselves  depraved. 

ELECTRA,  AUTURGUS. 

Elec.  0  dark-brow’d  Night,  nurse  of  the  golden 
stars, 

In  thee,  this  vase  sustaining  on  my  head, 

I  to  the  flowing  river  bend  my  steps 

(Not  by  necessity  to  this  compell’d,  65 

But  to  the  gods  to  show  the  insolent  wrongs 

I  suffer  from  jEgisthus),  and  my  griefs 

For  my  lost  father  to  the  wide  extent 

Of  ether  breathe  :  for  from  the  royal  house 

Me  my  destructive  mother  hath  driven  forth,  70 

To  gratify  her  husband  :  having  borne 

To  jEgisthus  other  children,  she  hath  made 

Me  and  Orestes  outcasts  from  the  house. 

Aut.  Why  wilt  thou  thus,  unhappy  lady,  toil, 

For  my  sake  bearing  labours,  nor  desist  75 

At  my  desire  1  Not  thus  hast  thou  been  train’d. 

Elec.  Thee  equal  to  the  gods  I  deem  my  friend  ; 
For  in  my  ills  thou  hast  not  treated  me 
With  insult.  In  misfortunes  thus  to  find, 


112 


EURIPIDES. 


What  I  have  found  in  thee,  a  gentle  power  80 

Lenient  of  grief,  must  be  a  mighty  source 
Of  consolation.  It  behooves  me  then, 

Far  as  my  power  avails,  to  ease  thy  toils, 

That  lighter  thou  rnayst  feel  them,  and  to  share 
Thy  labour,  though  unbidden  :  in  the  fields  85 
Thou  hast  enough  of  work;  be  it  my  task 
Within  to  order  well.  The  labourer,  tired 
Abroad,  with  pleasure  to  his  house  returns, 
Accustom’d  all  things  grateful  there  to  find. 

Aut.  Go,  then,  since  such  thy  will:  nor  distant 
far  90 

The  fountain  from  the  house.  At  the  first  dawn 
My  bullocks  yoked  I  to  the  field  will  drive, 

And  sow  my  furrows  :  for  no  idle  wretch, 

With  the  gods  always  in  his  mouth,  can  gain, 
Without  due  labour,  the  support  of  life.  95 

ORESTES,  PYLADES. 

Ores.  O  Pylades,  thee  first  of  all  mankind 
Faithful  and  friendly  1  esteem ;  alone 
Hast  thou  received  Orestes,  held  me  high 
In  thy  dear  love,  thus  with  misfortunes  press’d, 

And  suffering,  as  I  suffer,  dreadful  ills,  100 

Wrought  by  ^Egisthus,  whose  accursed  hand 
(And  my  destructive  mother  join’d  her  aid) 

Murder’d  my  father.  But  the  Argive  soil, 
Commanded  by  the  god’s  oracular  voice, 

No  mortal  conscious  to  my  steps,  I  tread,  105 
His  murder  on  his  murderers  to  avenge. 

This  night  my  father’s  tomb  have  I  approach’d, 
Pour’d  the  warm  tear,  presented  my  shorn  locks, 
And  offer’d  on  the  pyre  the  victim’s  blood, 

Secret  from  those  who  lord  it  o’er  this  land.  110 
The  walls  I  enter  not ;  a  double  charge 
At  once  emprising,  to  the  Argive  bounds 
I  come,  that  by  the  tyrant’s  spies,  if  known, 

I  to  another’s  realms  may  soon  retire, 

And  seek  my  sister ;  for  they  say  that  here 


115 


ELECTRA. 


113 


In  marriage  join’d  she  dwells,  a  virgin  now 
No  more  :  with  her  I  would  hold  converse,  her 
Take  my  associate  in  this  deed,  and  learn 
All  that  hath  pass’d  within  the  walls.  But  now 
(For  now  the  gray  morn  opes  her  radiant  eye)  120 
Retire  we  from  this  public  path  :  perchance 
Some  ploughman,  or  some  female  slave,  from  whom 
We  may  gain  knowledge,  may  in  sight  appear. 

And  see,  a  female  slave,  her  tresses  shorn, 

Bears  from  the  spring  her  vase  :  sit  we  awhile,  125 
And  question  her,  if  haply  from  her  words 
We  may  learn  aught  for  which  we  hither  came. 

ELECTRA. 

STROPHE. 

Begin,  begin,  for  this  the  hour 

The  mournful  measures  weeping  pour. 

Is  there  a  wretch  like  me  on  earth  1  130 

The  royal  Agamemnon  gave  me  birth, 

My  mother  Clytemnestea,  shame 
Fall  on  that  odious  name  ! 

And  me  each  tongue  within  Mycenae’s  walls 

The  unhappy,  lost  Electra  calls.  135 

My  soul  to  grief  a  prey, 

My  hated  life  in  anguish  wastes  away  : 

My  tears  for  thee,  my  father,  flow ; 

For  in  the  shades  below, 

By  cursed  ASgisthus  and  his  barbarous  wife  140 
(Ah  me,  ah  me,  my  miseries  !) 

Basely  deprived  of  life, 

The  royal  Agamemnon  lies. 

Yet  once  more  raise  the  tearful  strain, 

The  sweetly-mournful  measures  sooth  my  pain.  145 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Begin,  begin,  for  this  the  hour  ; 

The  mournful  members  weeping  pour. 

Unhappy  brother,  in  what  state, 

What  house  is  cruel  servitude  thv  fate : 


114 


EURIPIDES. 


Thy  sister,  in  those  rooms  confined,  150 

Once  by  her  sire  assign’d 
The  chaste  retirement  of  her  happier  years, — 

Thy  wretched  sister  left  to  tears, 

Tears  which  incessant  flow 
From  the  deep  anguish  of  severest  wo  1  155 

0,  mayst  thou  come  (0  Jove,  O  Jove, 

Hear  from  thy  throne  above  !) 

To  sooth  the  pangs  my  tortured  heart  that  rend : 

To  avenge  thy  father  basely  slain, 

Mayst  thou  to  Argos  bend  160 

Thy  weary,  wandering  foot  again. — 

Take  from  my  head  this  vase,  that  high 
May  swell  the  mournful  nightly  melody. — 

EFODE. 

The  dismal  song,  the  song  of  death, 

To  thee,  my  father,  will  I  raise,  165 

To  thee  among  the  shades  beneath  : 

So  pass  my  mournful  days. 

For  thee  my  bleeding  breast  I  tear, 

And  beat  my  head,  and  rend  my  hair, 

Shorn  as  an  offering  to  the  dead  :  170 

Yes,  poor  Electra,  beat  thy  head. 

As  some  broad  rolling  stream  along, 

For  his  lost  father  torn  away, 

Caught  in  the  wily  net  a  prey, 

The  tuneful  cygnet  pours  the  song;  175 

So  thee,  my  father,  I  lament, 

In  thy  last  bath  deprived  of  breath, 

Stretch’d  on  the  bed  of  death  : 

So  I  deplore  the  cursed  intent 

Form’d  ’gainst  thy  sad  return  from  Troy,  180 

The  keen  axe  furious  to  destroy. 

For  thee  no  crown  thy  wife  design’d, 

No  festive  wreath  thy  brows  to  bind, 

But  the  relentless,  trenchant  sword  ; 

And,  by  her  raging  passions  led,  185 

Aids  the  base  murderer’s  deed  abhorr’d, 

Then  takes  him  to  her  bed. 


ELECTRA. 


115 


ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I. 

Daughter  of  Agamemnon,  I  with  speed, 

Electra,  to  thy  rustic  cottage  fly : 

For  one,  whose  herds  on  these  rude  mountains  feed, 
A  swain,  on  whose  good  faith  we  firm  rely,  191 
Came,  from  Mycenae  came  ; 

The  Argives  (thus  he  says)  proclaim 
Three  days  of  festal  rites  divine, 

And  all  the  virgins  haste  to  Juno’s  shrine.  195 

ELECTRA. 

STROPHE  II. 

No  more,  my  friends,  the  gorgeous  vest, 

Which  in  her  happier  hours  Electra  graced  ; 

No  more  the  gem,  in  gold  enchased, 

With  vivid  radiance  sparkling  on  my  breast, 

Delight  my  mind  :  my  feet  no  more 
The  mazy-winding  dance  shall  tread ; 

No  more  the  train  of  Argive  virgins  lead. 

In  tears,  ah  me !  I  melt  away ; 

In  tears,  sad  solace  of  each  wretched  day. 

My  ceaseless  miseries  I  deplore  ; 

My  sordid  toils  these  locks  defile  ; 

Around  me  see  these  vestments  vile  : 

Of  Agamemnon’s  daughter  this  the  fate  ? 

Where  now  my  father’s  royal  state  1 
Where  the  proud  glories  of  his  name, 

And  Troy  recording  sad  her  conqueror’s 
fame  1 

CHORUS. 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

Great  is  the  goddess  :  go  then,  with  us  go ; 

Receive  whate’er  thy  beauties  may  improve  ; 

The  gold,  the  vests  with  various  dies  that  glow. 
Think’st  thou  with  tears  the  unhonour’d  gods  to 
move?  <  215 


200 


205 


210 

mighty 


116 


EURIPIDES, 


Not  won  by  sighs  their  aid, 

But  by  pure  vows  with  reverence  paid, 

The  gods,  to  crush  thy  foes,  will  send, 

And  blessings  on  thy  future  days  to  attend. 

ELECTRA. 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

My  cries,  my  vows  no  god  will  hear,  220 
Nor  heeded  they  my  father’s  spouting  gore. 

Ah  me  !  the  murder’d  I  deplore, 

And  for  the  living  exile  pour  the  tear : 

He,  distant  from  his  native  land, 

Wanders,  poor  outcast,  o’er  the  earth,  225 

And  seeks  mean  refuge  at  some  servile  hearth, 
Dragging  from  realm  to  realm  his  woes, 

Though  in  his  veins  the  blood  of  monarchs  flows. 

I,  by  oppression’s  iron  hand 

Driven  from  my  father’s  royal  seat,  230 

Dwell  in  this  low  obscure  retreat, 

Here  waste  in  toils  my  wretched  life  away, 

Or  o’er  the  rugged  mountains  stray  : 

While,  glorying  in  her  impious  deeds, 

My  mother  to  her  bed  the  blood-stain’d  murderer 
leads.  235 

Cho.  The  sister  of  thy  mother,  Helena, 

Hath  been  the  cause  of  many  ills  to  Greece, 

And  to  thy  house. 

Elec.  •  Ah  me  !  ye  female  train, 

My  measures  I  break  off :  some  strangers,  lodged 
Nigh  to  the  cottage,  from  their  ambush  rise.  240 
Fly  by  the  path  ;  1  to  the  house  will  fly : 

Let  us  be  swift  to  escape  their  ruffian  hands. 

ORESTES,  PYLADES,  ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

Ores.  Stay,  thou  unhappy ;  fear  not  aught  from  me. 

Elec.  Thee,  Phoebus,  that  I  die  not,  I  implore. 

Ores.  Others  more  hated  would  I  rather  kill.  245 


ELECTRA.  117 

Elec.  Away,  nor  touch  one  whom  thou  ought’st 
not  touch. 

Ores.  There  is  not  whom  more  justly  I  may  touch. 
Elec.  Why  with  thy  sword  in  ambush  near  my 
house  ? 

Ores.  Stay,  hear;  not  vain  thy  stay  thou  soon 
shalt  own. 

Elec.  I  stay  ;  the  stronger  thou,  I  in  thy  power. 
Ores.  Bearing  thy  brother’s  words  to  thee  I  come. 
Elec.  Most  welcome  :  breathes  he  yet  this  vital 
air  1  252 

Ores.  He  lives :  I  first  would  speak  what  brings 
thee  joy. 

Elec.  Oh  be  thou  bless’d  for  these  most  grateful 
words ! 

Ores.  To  both  in  common  this  I  give  to  share.  255 
Elec.  Where  is  the  unhappy  outcast  wandering 
now ? 

Ores.  He  wastes  his  life  not  subject  to  one  state. 
Elec.  Finds  he  with  toil  what  life  each  day  re¬ 
quires  1 

Ores.  Not  so;  but  mean  the  wandering  exile’s 
state. 

Elec.  But  with  what  message  art  thou  from  him 
charged  1  260 

Ores.  To  inquire,  if  living,  where  thou  bear’st  thy 
griefs. 

Elec.  First,  then,  observe  my  thin  and  wasted 
state. 

Ores.  Wasted  with  grief,  so  that  I  pity  thee.  263 
Elec.  Behold  my  head,  its  crisped  honours  shorn. 
Ores.  Mourning  thy  brother,  or  thy  father  dead  1 
Elec.  W^hat  can  be  dearer  to  my  soul  than  these  1 
Ores.  Alas  !  What  deem’st  thou  are  thy  brother’s 
thoughts  1 

Elec.  He,  though  far  distant,  is  most  dear  to  me. 
Ores.  Why  here  thy  dwelling,  from  the  city  far? 
Elec.  0  stranger,  in  base  nuptials  I  am  join’d.  270 
Ores.  I  feel  thy  brother’s  grief :  to  one  of  rank  \ 


118 


EURIPIDES. 


Elec.  Not  as  my  father  once  to  place  me  hoped. 

Ores.  That  hearing  I  may  tell  thy  brother,  speak. 

Elec.  This  is  his  house  :  in  this  I  dwell  remote. 

Ores.  This  house  some  digger,  or  some  herdsman 
suits.  275 

Elec.  Generous,  though  poor,  in  reverence  me  he 
holds. 

Ores.  To  thee  what  reverence  doth  thy  husband 
pay  ! 

Elec.  He  never  hath  presumed  to  approach  my 
bed. 

Ores.  Through  sacred  chastity,  or  from  disdain  1 

Elec.  Scorning  my  noble  parents  to  disgrace.  280 

Ores.  How  in  such  nuptial  feels  he  not  a  pride  ? 

Elec.  Him,  who  allied  me,  not  my  lord  he  deems. 

Ores.  Thinking  Orestes  might  revenge  the  wrong? 

Elec.  This  too  he  fears  ;  yet  modest  is  his  mind. 

Ores.  A  generous  man,  and  one  who  merits  much. 

Elec.  If  to  his  house  the  absent  e’er  returns.  286 

Ores.  But  this  debasement  could  thy  mother 
brook  ? 

Elec.  T^heir  husbands,  not  their  children,  wives 
regard. 

Ores.  Why  did  iEgisthus  offer  this  base  wrong? 

Elec.  Thus  placing  me,  he  wish’d  my  children 
weak.  290 

Ores.  That  from  thee  no  avengers  might  arise. 

Elec.  For  this  design  may  vengeance  on  him  fall ! 

Ores.  That  yet  thou  art  a  virgin  doth  he  know  ? 

Elec.  He  knows  it  not :  this  undisclosed  we  hold. 

Ores.  Are  these,  who  hear  us,  faithful,  and  thy 
friends  ?  295 

Elec.  Never  thy  words  or  mine  will  they  disclose. 

Ores.  What  should  Orestes  do,  if  he  return  ? 

Elec.  Canst  thou  ask  this?  How  base!  The 
time  now  calls — 

Ores.  But  how  thy  father’s  murderers  should  he 

slay? 


ELECTRA. 


119 


Elec.  Daring  to  do  what  they,  who  slew  him, 
dared.  300 

Ores.  Couldst  thou,  with  him,  thy  mother  bear  to 
kill? 

Elec.  With  the  same  axe,  by  which  my  father  fell. 

Ores.  This  may  I  tell  him,  and  thy  soul  resolved"? 

Elec.  My  mother’s  blood  first  shedding,  might  I 
die ! 

Ores.  0,  were  Orestes  nigh,  to  hear  these  words  ! 

Elec.  If  seen,  I  should  not  know  him,  stranger, 
now.  306 

Ores.  No  wonder,  for  when  parted  both  were 
young. 

Elec.  Nor  by  my  friends,  save  one,  would  he  be 
known. 

Ores.  Who  bore  him,  as  they  say,  by  stealth  from 
death  ? 

Elec.  The  aged  guardian  of  my  father’s  youth.  310 

Ores.  Was  thy  dead  father  honour’d  with  a  tomb  1 

Elec.  As  he  was  honour’d,  from  the  house  cast 
forth. 

Ores.  Alas,  the  barbarous  deed !  A  sense  of  ills, 
Which  strangers  suffer,  wounds  the  human  heart. 
But  speak,  that  to  thy  brother  I  may  bear,  315 
By  thee  inform’d,  words  which  perchance  may 
wound 

His  ear,  but  which  concerns  him  much  to  know. 
Those  who  have  knowledge  feel  the  tender  touch 
Of  pity,  not  the  unknowing  :  yet  to  know 
Too  much,  is  oft  the  bitter  source  of  grief.  320 

Cho.  My  soul  is  with  the  same  desire  inflamed ; 
For  from  the  city  distant,  riaught  I  know 
Of  the  ills  there  ;  1  wish  to  be  inform’d. 

Elec.  I  would  speak,  if  I  might ;  and  to  a  friend 
May  I  not  speak  my  suffering  father’s  wrongs,  325 
And  mine"?  But,  stranger,  since  to  this  discourse 
Thou  dost  enforce  me,  I  conjure  thee  tell 
Orestes  his  calamities,  and  mine  : 
fell  him  in  what  mean  garb  thou  seest  me  clad, 


120 


EURIPIDES. 


T 

How  sordid,  and  beneath  what  lowly  roof,  330 
Born  as  I  was  to  royalty,  I  lodge. 

I,  labouring  at  the  loom  the  lengthen’d  robe, 

Shall  want  the  vest  to  clothe  my  nakedness  ; 

And,  bearing  water  from  the  flowing  fount, 

No  more  partaker  of  the  feast,  no  more  335 

Myself  a  virgin,  mid  the  virgin  train 
Leading  the  dance,  to  them  1  bid  adieu, 

To  Castor  also  bid  adieu,  to  whom, 

Ere  to  the  gods  advanced,  I  was  betrothed, 

As  from  the  same  illustrious  lineage  sprung.  340 
Meantime  my  mother  mid  the  Phrygian  spoils 
Sits  on  her  throne  ;  the  Asiatic  dames, 

Made  by  my  father’s  conquest  slaves,  attend 
Her  state,  their  rich  Idaean  vests  confined 
With  clasps  of  gold,  my  father’s  clotted  gore  345 
Yet  putrid  in  the  house  ;  and  the  same  car, 

In  which  my  father  rode,  his  murderer  mounts  ; 

The  sceptre,  ensign  of  his  kingly  sway 
O’er  Greece  in  arms  confederate,  he  with  pride 
Grasps  in  his  bloody  hands.  The  monarch’s  tomb, 
Unhonoured,  nor  libations  hath  received,  351 

Nor  myrtle  bough ;  no  hallow’d  ornament 
Hath  dignified  the  pyre  :  inflamed  with  wine, 

My  mother’s  husband  (the  illustrious  lord, 

For  so  they  call  him)  tramples  on  the  earth  355 
Insultingly  where  Agamemnon  lies  ; 

And,  hurling  ’gainst  his  monument  a  stone, 

Thus  taunts  us  with  proud  scorn Where  is  thy 
son, 

Orestes  where  1  right  noble  is  thy  tomb 
Protected  by  his  presence.”  Thus  he  mocks  360 
The  absent :  but,  O  stranger,  tell  him  this, 

Suppliant  I  beg  thee.  Many  give  the  charge, 

And  I  interpret  it ;  my  hands,  my  tongue, 

My  mind  desponding  with  its  grief,  my  head 
Shorn  of  its  tresses,  and  his  father.  Shame,  365 
Base  shame  it  were,  if,  when  his  father’s  arm 
Subdued  the  Trojans,  he  should  want  the  power 


ELECTRA. 


121 


Alone  to  hurl  his  vengeance  on  one  man, 

Now  in  youth’s  prime,  and  from  a  nobler  sire. 

Cho.  But  see,  the  man,  thy  husband,  to  his  toils 
Giving  a  respite,  hastens  to  his  house.  371 

AUTURGUS,  ELECTRA,  ORESTES,  PYLADES,  CHORUS. 

Aut.  Ha!  who  these  strangers,  whom  before  my 
doors 

I  see  1  Why  come  they  to  these  rustic  gates  ? 

Of  me  aught  want  they  1  With  young  men  to  stand 
Abroad,  a  woman’s  honour  ill  beseems.  375 

Elec.  Thou  faithful  friend,  let  no  suspicion  touch 
Thy  mind:  their  converse  truly  shalt  thou  know. 
These,  by  Orestes  charged,  are  come  to  me. 
Strangers,  forgive  what  he  hath  said  amiss. 

Aut.  What  say  they  1  Lives  he  ?  Is  he  yet  a 
man? 

Elec.  He  lives,  they  say,  and  speak  what  wins  my 
faith.  381. 

Aut.  Remembers  he  his  father,  and  thy  wrongs  ? 
Elec.  This  lives  in  hope :  an  exile’s  state  is  weak. 
Aut..  What  from  Orestes  come  they  to  relate  T 
Elec.  He  sent  them  secret  to  observe  my  ills.  385 
Aut.  Some  they  behold,  and  some  thou  maysv 
relate. 

Elec.  They  know  them,  of  each  circumstance  in¬ 
form’d. 

Aut.  Then  long  ago  my  lowly  doors  to  them 
Should  have  been  open’d.  Enter  ye  the  house ; 

And  for  your  welcome  tidings  you  shall  share  390 

Such  hospitable  viands  as  the  stores 

Of  my  poor  mansion  yield.  You,  who  attend, 

What  for  their  journey  needful  they  have  brought 
Bear  in :  nor  you  refuse  ;  for  you  are  come 
Friends  to  a  friendly  man  :  poor  though  I  am,  395 
A  sordid  spirit  never  will  I  show. 

Ores.  Now  by  the  gods,  is  this  the  man,  who- 
holds 

Eurip.  Yol.  III. — L 


122 


EtTRIPTDES. 


Thy  marriage  in  such  holy  reverence, 

Scorning  to  do  Orestes  shameful  wrong  ?  399 

Elec.  The  poor  Electra’s  husband  this  is  call’d. 

Ores.  Nature  hath  given  no  outward  mark  to  note 
The  generous  mind :  the  qualities  of  men 
To  sense  are  indistinct.  I  oft  have  seen 
One  of  no  worth  a  noble  father  shame, 

And  from  vile  parents  worthy  children  spring  ;  405 
Meanness  oft  grovelling  in  the  rich  man’s  mind, 

And  oft  exalted  spirits  in  the  poor. 

How  then  discerning  shall  we  judge  aright  1 
By  riches  1  ill  would  they  abide  the  test : 

By  poverty  1  on  poverty  awaits  410 

This  ill,  through  want  it  prompts  to  sordid  deeds  : 
Shall  we  pronounce  by  arms  ?  but  who  can  judge, 
By  looking  on  the  spear,  the  dauntless  heart  1 
Such  judgment  is  fallacious :  for  this  man, 

Nor  great  among  the  Argives,  nor  elate  415 

With  the  proud  honours  of  his  house,  his  rank 
Plebeian,  hath  approved  his  liberal  heart. 

Will  you  not  then  learn  wisdom,  you  whose  minds 
Error  with  false  presentments  leads  astray! 

Will  you  not  learn  by  manners  and  by  deeds  420 
To  judge  the  noble  1  Such  discharge  their  trust 
With  honour  to  the  state,  and  to  their  house  : 

Mere  flesh,  without  a  spirit,  is  no  more 

Than  statues  in  the  forum :  nor  in  war 

Doth  the  strong  arm  the  dargerous  shock  abide  425 

More  than  the  weak :  on  nat  ire  this  depends, 

And  an  intrepid  mind.  But  v >  e  accept 
Thy  hospitable  kindness  ;  for  the  son 
Of  Agamemnon,  for  whose  sake  we  come, 

Present  or  not,  is  worthy  :  to  this  house  430 

Go,  my  attendants  ;  I  must  enter  it : 

This  man,  though  poor,  more  cheerful  than  the  rich 
Receives  me;  to  his  kindness  thanks  are  due. 

More  would  it  joy  me  if  thy  brother,  bless’d 
Himself,  could  lead  me  to  his  prosperous  house  ;  435 
Yet  haply  he  may  come  ;  the  oracular  voice 


ELECTRA. 


123 


Of  Phoebus  firmly  will  be  ratified  : 

Lightly  of  human  prophecies  I  deem. 

[Orestes  and  his  attendants  enter  the  house. 
Crio.  Ne’er  till  this  hour,  Electra,  were  our  hearts 
So  warm’d  with  joy  :  for  Fortune  now,  perchance, 
Though  slow  in  her  advance,  may  firmly  stand.  441 
Elec.  Why,  thou  unhappy,  of  thy  humble  house 
Knowing  the  penury,  wouldst  thou  receive 
Such  guests,  of  rank  superior  to  thy  own  ? 

Aut.  Why  not  1  If  they  are  noble,  so  their  port 
Denotes  them,  will  they  not  alike  enjoy  446 

Contentment,  be  their  viands  mean  or  rich  1 
Elec.  Since  thou  hast  done  what  suits  not  thy  low 
state, 

To  my  loved  father’s  aged  guardian  go ; 

He  near  the  river  Tanus,  which  divides  450 

The  realms  of  Argos  from  the  Spartan  land, 

An  outcast  from  the  city,  leads  his  herds : 

Entreat  him  to  attend  thee  to  thy  house, 

Supplying  what  may  entertain  thy  guests. 

He  will  rejoice,  presenting  to  the  gods  455 

His  vows,  when  he  shall  hear  the  son,  preserved 
By  him,  yet  lives :  for  from  my  father’s  house 
We  from  my  mother  nothing  should  receive  ; 

And  bitter  were  the  tidings,  should  she  learn  459 
(What  most  would  grieve  her)  that  Orestes  lives. 

Aut.  These  words,  since  such  thy  pleasure,  I  will 
bear 

To  the  old  man.  But  entfcr  thou  the  house 
With  speed,  and  all  things  set  in  order  there : 

For  many  things  a  woman,  be  her  thoughts 
Intent,  may  find  to  form  the  grateful  feast :  465 

And  in  the  house  such  plenty  yet  remains, 

As  for  one  day  may  well  supply  their  wants. 

Yet  on  such  subjects  when  my  thoughts  are  turn’d, 

I  deem  of  wealth  as  having  mighty  power 
To  give  the  stranger  welcome,  and  to  aid  470 

The  body  when  afflicted  with  disease  ; 

But  of  small  moment  to  the  daily  food 


124 


EURIPIDES. 


Which  Nature  craves :  for  to  supply  her  wants. 

An  equal  measure  serves  the  rich  and  poor. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I. 

Ye  gallant  ships,  that  o’er  the  main  475 

Rush’d  with  innumerous  oars, 

Dancing  amid  the  Nereid  train 
To  Troy’s  detested  shores  ; 

Your  dark-beak’d  prows,  while  wanton  round 
The  pipe-enamour’d  dolphins  bound,  48f 

The  son  of  Thetis  pleased  to  guide, 

Achilles,  leaping  on  the  strand 
(With  Agamemnon’s  martial  band) 

Where  Simois  rolls  his  tide. 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

The  Nereids  left  the  Eubcean  shore,  48f 

And  arms  divinely  bright 
For  Vulcan’s  golden  anvils  bore  : 

O’er  Pelion’s  rocky  height, 

O’er  sacred  Ossa’s  wood-crown’d  brow, 

Which  shows  the  nymphs  the  plain  below,  490 
They  pass’d,  the  warlike  father  where 
The  heroic  son  of  Thetis  bred, 

The  pride  of  Greece,  by  glory  led 
The  Atridae’s  toils  to  share. 

STROPHE  II. 

One,  who  the  spoils  of  Troy  had  shared,  495 
I  saw  in  Nauplia’s  port,  and  raptured  hung, 

480  The  dolphins  were  thought  by  the  ancients  to  be  de 
lighted  with  music  :  hence  the  poet  describes  them  as  gambol¬ 
ling  around  the  Grecian  ships,  whose  oars  kept  stroke  to  the  tune 
of  flutes. 

482  An  oracle  had  declared,  that  whoever  of  the  Grecians 
should  with  his  feet  first  touch  the  Trojan  strand,  should  first 
be  slain.  Achilles,  to  encourage  the  troops  to  land,  threw  his 
shield  on  the  shore,  and  leaped  out  of  his  ship  on  it :  this  was 
the  suggestion  of  Ulysses:  immediately  Pretesilaus  leaped  or* 
the  strand  ;  and  as  he  was  the  first  that  touched  it  with  his  feet 
he  was  the  first  slain. 


ELECTRA. 


125 


0  son  of  Thetis,  on  his  tongue, 

While  he  the  glories  of  thy  shield  declared  ; 

On  its  bright  orb  what  figures  rise, 

Terrific  to  the  Phrygians’  eyes  :  500 

Grasping  the  Gorgon’s  head,  the  verge  around, 

With  waving  wings  his  sandals  bound; 

A  sculptured  Perseus  rises  o’er  the  main : 

Protector  of  the  pastured  plain, 

Hermes,  the  messenger  of  Jove,  505 

Seems  with  the  favour’d  chief  his  golden  wings  to 
move. 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

Full  in  the  midst,  the  orb  of  day, 

In  all  its  radiance,  blazes  through  the  sky ; 

The  fiery  coursers  seem  to  fly : 

And,  silent  rolling  o’er  the  ethereal  way,  510 

The  stars  refulgent  through  the  night, 

To  Hector’s  eyes  a  dreadful  sight, 

High  on  the  helmet  sphinxes  glow  in  gold, 

Who,  while  their  prey  their  talons  hold, 

In  triumph  seem  their  barbarous  song  to  pour.  515 
The  richly  burnish’d  hauberk  o’er, 

Breathing  fierce  flames,  with  horrid  speed 
The  dire  Chimaera  springs  to  seize  Pirene’s  steed. 

EPODE. 

Dreadful  the  blood-stain’d  spear;  the  car 
Four  coursers  whirl  amid  the  war  ;  520 

Behind  them  clouds  of  dust  black  rising  roll. 

Such  martial  chiefs  the  monarch  led ; 

Yet  by  a  hand  accursed  he  bled, 

By  his  wife’s  hand :  her  noble  blood 
From  the  rich  streams  of  Tyndarus  flow’d,  525 
But  deeds  of  horror  darken  on  her  soul. 

Yet  may  the  gods’  avenging  power 
On  thee  their  righteous  fury  shower ; 

503  Perseus  is  generally  described  with  wings  on  his  helmet 
and  sandals ;  these  he  received  from  Mercury,  who  concurred 
with  Jupiter  and  Minerva  in  protecting  this  hero,  and  is  here  his 
attendant. 


2 


126 


EURIPIDES. 


Yet  may  thy  neck  the  falchion  wound ; 

Yet  may  I  see  thy  blood  distain  the  ground  !  530 

OLD  TUTOR,  ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

Tut.  Where  is  my  honour’d  mistress,  my  loved 
child, 

Daughter  of  Agamemnon,  once  my  charge  1 
Steep  to  her  house  and  difficult  the  ascent; 

With  pain  my  age-enfeebled  feet  advance ; 

Yet  labouring  onward,  with  bent  knees  I  move  535 
To  seek  my  friends.  O  daughter  (for  mine  eyes 
Before  the  house  behold  thee),  I  am  come, 

Bringing  this  tender  youngling  from  my  fold  ; 

These  garlands  ;  from  the  vases  these  fresh  curds, 
And  this  small  flask  of  old  and  treasured  wine  540 
Of  grateful  odour:  scanty  the  supply; 

Yet,  with  aught  weaker  if  allay’d,  the  cup 
Will  yield  a  grateful  beverage.  Let  one  bear 
Into  the  house  these  presents  for  thy  guests  : 

I,  with  these  tatter’d  vests,  meanwhile  will  wipe  545 
Mine  eyes,  for  they  are  wet  with  gushing  tears. 
Elec.  Why,  good  old  man,  thus  wet  thy  tearful 
eyes  1 

After  this  lapse  of  time,  dost  thou  recall 
The  memory  of  my  ills  ?  or  mourn  the  flight 
Of  poor  Orestes,  or  my  father’s  fate,  550 

Whom,  in  thy  hands  sustaining,  once  thy  care 
Nurtured,  to  thee  and  to  thy  friends  in  vain  1 
Tut.  In  vain:  but  this  my  soul  could  not  support ; 
For  to  his  tomb,  as  on  the  way  I  came, 

I  turn’d  aside,  and,  falling  on  the  ground,  555 

Alone  and  unobserved,  indulged  my  tears  ; 

Then  of  the  wine,  brought  for  thy  stranger  guests, 
Made  a  libation,  and  around  the  tomb 
Placed  myrtle  branches  ;  on  the  pyre  I  saw 
A  sable  ewe,  yet  fresh  the  victim’s  blood,  560 

And  clustering  auburn  locks  shorn  from  some  head: 
I  marvell’d,  O  my  child!  what  man  had  dared 
Approach  the  tomb,  for  this  no  Argive  dares : 


ELECTRA. 


127 


Perchance  with  secret  step  thy  brother  came, 

And  paid  these  honours  to  his  father’s  tomb.  565 
But  view  these  locks,  compare  them  with  thine  own, 
Whether  like  thine  their  colour :  Nature  loves 
In  those,  who  from  one  father  draw  their  blood, 

In  many  points  a  likeness  to  preserve. 

Elec.  Unworthy  of  a  wise  man  are  thy  words,  570 
If  thou  canst  think  that  to  Mycenae’s  realms 
My  brother  e’er  with  secret  step  will  come, 

Fearing  iEgisthus  :  then  between  our  locks 
What  can  the  agreement  be  1  To  manly  toils 
He  in  the  rough  palaestra  hath  been  train’d,  575 
Mine  by  the  comb  are  soften’d  ;  so  that  hence 
Nothing  may  be  inferr’d  :  besides,  old  man, 

Tresses  like-colour’d  often  mayst  thou  find, 

Where  not  one  drop  of  kindred  blood  is  shared. 

Tut.  Trace  but  his  footsteps,  mark  the  impres¬ 
sion,  see  580 

If  of  the  same  dimensions  with  thy  feet. 

Elec.  How  can  the  impression  of  his  foot  be  left 
On  hard  and  rocky  ground  ?  But  were  it  so, 
Brother  and  sister  never  can  have  foot 
Of  like  dimensions  :  larger  is  the  man’s.  585 

Tut.  But  hath  thy  brother,  should  he  come,  no 
vest 

Which  thou  wouldstknow,  the  texture  of  thy  hands, 
In  which,  when  snatch’d  from  death,  lie  was  array’d  ? 
Elec.  Know’st  thou  not,  when  my  brother  from 
this  land 

Was  saved,  I  was  but  young1?  But  were  his  vests 
Wrought  by  my  hands,  then  infant  as  he  was,  591 
How  could  he  now,  in  his  maturer  age, 

Be  in  the  same  array’d,  unless  his  vests 
Grew  with  his  person’s  growth?  No:  at  the  tomb 
Some  stranger,  touch’d  with  pity,  shear’d  his  locks, 
Or  native,  by  the  tyrant’s  spies  unmark’d.  596 

Tut.  Where  are  these  strangers  ?  I  would  see 
them :  much 

Touching  thy  brother  wish  I  to  inquire. 


12S 


EURIPIDES. 


Elec.  See,  from  the  house  with  hastening  step 
they  come. 

ORESTES,  PYLADES,  ELECTRA,  TUTOR,  CHORUS. 

Tut.  Their  port  is  noble  ;  but  the  exterior  form 
Oft  cheats  the  eye :  many  of  noble  port  601 

Are  base  ;  yet  will  I  bid  the  strangers  hail. 

Ores.  Hail,  hoary  sire  !  Electra,  of  what  friend 
Doth  chance  present  us  the  revered  remains  ! 

Elec.  The  guardian,  strangers,  of  my  father  s 
youth.  605 

Ores.  Is  this  the  man  who  bore  thy  brother  hence  1 

Elec.  The  man  who  saved  him  this,  if  yet  he 
lives. 

Ores.  Why  doth  he  scan  me  with  that  curious.eye, 
As  if  inspecting  some  bright  impress  mark’d 
On  silver!  Some  resemblance  doth  he  trace!  610 

Elec.  In  thee  he  pleased  may  mark  my  brother’s 
years. 

Ores.  A  much-loved  man.  W~hy  wheels  he  round 
me  thus ! 

Elec.  I  too  am  struck  with  wonder,  seeing  this. 

Tut.  My  dear,  my  honour’d  child,  address  the 
gods. 

Elec.  For  what !  some  absent,  or  some  present 
good!  615 

Tut.  To  hold  the  treasure,  which  the  god  pre¬ 
sents. 

Elec.  See,  I  address  the  gods :  what  wouldst  thou 
say! 

Tut.  Look  now  on  him,  my  child,  that  dearest 
youth. 

Elec.  I  fear’d  before  thy  senses  were  not  sound. 

Tut.  My  sense  not  sound,  when  I  Orestes  see ! 

Elec.  Why  speakest  thou  what  all  my  hopes  ex¬ 
ceeds!  621 

Tut.  In  him  beholding  Agamemnon’s  son. 

Elec.  What  mark  hast  thou  observed,  to  win  my 
faith ! 


ELECTRA. 


129 


Tut.  That  scar  above  his  eyebrow,  from  a  fall 
Imprinted  deep,  as  in  his  father’s  house,  625 

He  long  ago,  with  thee,  pursued  a  hind. 

Elec.  I  see  the  mark  remaining  from  his  fall. 

Tut.  Why  the  most  dear  delay’st  thou  yet  to  em¬ 
brace  1 

Elec.  No  longer  now  will  I  delay  :  the  marks 
By  thee  discover’d  are  persuasive  proofs.  630 

O  thou  at  length  return’d,  beyond  my  hopes 
Thus  I  embrace  thee. 

Ores.  And  my  arms  at  last 

Thus  fondly  clasp  thee. 

Elec.  This  I  never  thought : 

Ores.  Nor  could  I  hope  it. 

Elec.  Art  thou  he  indeed  1 

Ores.  Alone  to  thee,  in  firm  alliance  join’d,  635 
If  well  this  net,  my  present  task,  I  draw. 

Elec.  I  am  assured  ;  or  never  must  we  more 
Believe  that  there  are  gods,  if  impious  wrongs 
Triumphant  over  justice  bear  the  sway. 

chorus. 

Yes,  thou  art  come,  O  lingering  day,  640 
At  length  art  come,  and,  beaming  bright, 
Show’st  to  Mycenae’s  state  his  glorious  light, 
Who,  from  his  father’s  palace  chased, 

A  wretched  wanderer  long  disgraced, 

Cheers  us  with  his  returning  ray.  645 

Some  god,  some  god,  my  royal  friend, 
Back  our  own  radiant  Victory  leads  : 

Raise  then  thy  hands,  and  to  the  skies 
Let  for  thy  brother  suppliant  vows  arise*; 
That,  as  with  daring  foot  he  treads,  650 

Success,  success  may  on  his  steps  attend. 

Ores.  So  may  it  be.  With  joy  thy  dear  embrace 
I  now  receive  :  at  length  the  time  will  come 
W'hen  it  shall  be  repeated.  But,  old  man 
(For  opportune  thy  coming),  tell  me  now 


655 


]30 


EURIPIDES. 


What  I  shall  do  on  the  base  murderer’s  head, 

And  on  my  mother’s,  who  impurely  shares 
His  nuptial  bed,  to  avenge  my  father’s  death. 

Have  I  no  friend  at  Argos  1  not  one  left 
Benevolent  ?  are,  with  my  fortunes,  all  660 

Entirely  lost  ?  to  whom  shall  I  apply  1 
Doth  the  night  suit  my  purpose,  or  the  day  ? 

Or  which  wav  shall  I  turn  against  my  foes  1 

Tut.  Amid  thy  ruin’d  fortunes,  0  my  son, 

Thou  hast  no  friend.  Where  shall  the  man  be 
found  665 

Prompt  in  a  prosperous  or  an  adverse  state 
Alike  to  share  ]  But  learn  this  truth  from  me 
(For  of  thy  friends  thou  wholly  art  bereft, 

Nor  doth  ev’n  hope  remain) ;  in  thine  own  hand 
Now,  and  in  fortune,  thou  hast  all  wherewith  670 
To  gain  thy  father’s  house  and  regal  state. 

Ores.  W'hat  shall  we  do  to  effect  this  glorious 
end  1 

Tut.  iEgisthus  and  thy  mother  thou  must  kill. 

Ores.  For  that  1  come :  but  how  obtain  that 
crown  ? 

Tut.  Thou  canst  not  enter,  if  thou  wouldst,  the 
walls.  675 

Ores.  With  guards  defended,  and  with  spear-arm’d 
hands  1 

Tut.  Ay;  for  he  fears  thee,  nor  untroubled  sleeps. 

Ores.  Well;  let  thine  age  some  counsel  then  im¬ 
part. 

Tut.  Hear  me  :  this  now  hath  to  my  thought  oc- 
curr’d. 

Ores.  Mayst  thou  point  out,  and  I  perceive  some 
good !  680 

Tut.  I  saw  A2gisthus,  hither  as  I  came. 

Ores.  I  am  attentive  to  thee  :  in  what  place  1 

Tut.  Near  to  those  meadows,  where  his  coursers 
feed. 

Ores.  What  doing  1  Hope  arises  from  despair. 

Tut.  A  feast,  it  seems,  preparing  to  the  Nymphs. 


ELECTRA. 


131 


Ores.  Grateful  for  children  born,  or  vows  for 
more  1  686 

Tut.  I  know  but  this,  the  victims  were  prepared. 
Ores.  With  him  what  men  1  Or  with  his  slaves 
alone  1 

Tut.  No  Argive  there,  but  his  domestic  train. 
Ores.  Is  there  who  would  discover  me,  if  seen  1 
Tut.  No  ;  these  are  slaves  who  never  saw  thy 
face.  691 

Ores.  To  me,  if  I  prevail,  they  might  be  friends. 
Tut.  Such  the  slave’s  nature :  but  this  favours 
thee. 

Ores.  How  to  his  person  near  shall  I  approach  1 
Tut.  Beneath  his  eye  pass  when  the  victims 
bleed, —  695 

Ores.  That  way,  it  seems,  some  pastured  fields 
are  his. 

Tut.  That  he  may  call  thee  to  partake  the  feast. 
Ores.  A  bitter  guest,  if  so  it  please  the  gods. 

Tut.  Then,  as  the  occasion  points,  thy  measures 
form. 

Ores.  Well  hast  thou  said.  But  where  my  mo¬ 
ther  now  1  700 

Tut.  At  Argos ;  but  the  feast  she  soon  will  grace. 
Ores.  Why  not  together  with  her  husband  come  I 
Tut.  Dreading  the  people’s  just  reproach,  she 
stay’d. 

Ores.  She  knows  then  the  suspicions  of  the  state  1 
Tut.  She  does :  the  impious  woman  all  abhor.  705 
Ores.  How  then  together  shall  I  slay  them  both  1 
Elec.  I  will  form  measures  for  my  mother’s 
death. 

Ores.  Fortune  shall  guide  them  to  a  good  event. 
Elec.  May  she  in  this  be  aiding  to  us  both  ! 

Ores.  It  shall  be  so  :  but  what  dost  thou  devise  % 
Elec.  To  Clytemnestra  go,  old  man,  and  say,  711 
To  a  male  child  Electra  hath  given  birth. 

Tut.  That  she  long  since,  or  lately  bore  this 
child  1 

Elec.  Tell  her  the  days  require  the  lustral  rites 


132 


EURIPIDES. 


Ores.  And  how  thy  mother’s  death  doth  this 
effect?  715 

Elec.  Hearing  my  child-bed  illness,  she  will 
come. 

Tut.  She  hath  no  tenderness  for  thee,  my  child. 

Elec.  Nay,  my  parturient  honours  she  will  weep. 

Tut.  Perchance  she  may  :  but  brief  thy  purpose 
speak. 

Elec.  Death,  certain  death,  awaits  her,  if  she 
comes.  720 

Tut.  Within  these  gates  then  let  her  set  her  feet. 

Elec.  Soon  to  the  gates  of  Pluto  shall  she  turn. 

Tut.  Might  I  see  this,  with  pleasure  I  would  die. 

Elec.  First  then,  old  man,  conduct  him  to  the 
place  ; — 

Tut.  The  hallow’d  victims  where  iEgisthus  slays  ? 

Elec.  Then  meet  my  mother,  and  relate  my 
words.  726 

Tut.  That  she  shall  think  them  utter’d  by  thy 
lips. 

Elec.  Now  is  thy  task :  by  thee  he  first  must 
bleed.  [to  Orestes. 

Ores.  Had  I  a  guide,  this  instant  would  I  go. 

Tut.  Thy  steps  with  ready  zeal  I  will  direct.  730 

Ores.  God  of  my  country,  god  of  vengeance, 
Jove, 

O,  pity  us  !  our  sufferings  pity  claim. 

Elec.  Pity  us,  for  our  race  from  thee  we  draw  ! 

Ores.  And  thou,  whose  altars  at  Mycence  blaze, 
Imperial  Juno,  give  us  victory,  735 

If  in  a  righteous  cause  we  ask  thy  aid ! 

Elec.  O,  give  us  to  avenge  our  father’s  death ! 

Ores.  And  thou,  my  father,  who  beneath  the 
earth 

Hast  thy  dark  dwelling,  through  unholy  deeds 
(And  thou,  O  Earth,  to  whom  I  stretch  my  hands, 
Great  queen),  protect  thy  children,  0  protect  741 
Thy  most  dear  children :  come,  and  with  thee  bring, 
To  aid  our  cause,  each  mighty  dead,  that  shook 


ELECTRA. 


133 


The  spear  with  thee,  and  with  thee  conquer’d  Troy ! 
Hear’st  thou,  so  foully  by  my  mother  wrong’d ;  745 
And  all,  the  impious  murderers  who  abhor  1 

Elec.  All  this,  I  know,  my  father  hears  ;  but  now 
The  time  demands  thee  :  go  ;  by  thy  bold  hand, 

I  charge  thee,  let  the  vile  iEgisthus  die, 

For  in  the  fatal  contest  shouldst  thou  fall,  750 
My  life  too  ends  ;  nor  say  thou  that  I  live, 

For  I  will  plunge  the  sword  into  my  throat. 

This  go  I  to  prepare.  If  glad  report 
Of  thy  success  arrive,  then  all  the  house 
Shall  echo  to  my  joy  ;  but  shouldst  thou  die,  755 
All  otherwise.  Thou  hear’st  what  I  resolve. 

Ores.  I  know  it  all. 

Elec.  In  this  behooves  thee  much 

To  be  a  man. — Ye  women,  let  your  voice 
Give  signal,  like  a  flaming  beacon,  how 
The  contest  ends  :  I  will  keep  watch  within.  760 
Holding  the  keen  sword  ready  in  my  hands ; 

For  never  shall  my  body  from  my  foes, 

If  I  must  fall,  indecent  outrage  bear. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I. 

The  Argive  mountains  round, 

’Mong  tales  of  ancient  days,  765 

From  age  to  age  recorded  this  remains 
Tuned  to  mellifluous  lays, 

Pan  taught  his  pipe  to  sound  ; 

And  as  he  breathed  the  sprightly-swelling  strains, 
The  beauteous  ram  with  fleece  of  gold,  770 
God  of  shepherds  on  he  drove. 

The  herald  from  the  rock  above 
Proclaims, —  “Your  monarch’s  wonders  to  behold, 
Wonders  to  sight,  from  which  no  terrors  flow, 

Go,  Mycenacans,  to  the  assembly  go.”  775 

With  reverence  they  obey  the  call, 

And  fill  the  Atridae’s  spacious  hall. 

Eurip.  Vol.  III. — M 


134 


EURIPIDES. 


ANTISTROPHE  I. 

Its  gates  with  gold  o’erlaid 
Wide  oped  each  Argive  shrine, 

And  from  the  altars  hallow’d  flames  arise;  780 
Amid  the  rites  divine, 

Joying  the  Muse  to  aid, 

Breathed  the  brisk  pipe  its  sweet  notes  to  the  skies  ; 
Accordant  to  the  tuneful  strain 
S well’d  the  loud-acclaiming  voice,  785 

Now  with  Thyestes  to  rejoice  : 

He,  all  on  fire  the  glorious  prize  to  gain, 

W7ith  secret  love  the  wife  of  Atreus  won, 

And  thus  the  shining  wonder  made  his  own; 

Then  to  the  assembly  vaunting  cried,  790 
“  Mine  is  the  rich  ram’s  golden  pride.” 

STROPHE  II. 

Then,  O  then,  indignant  Jove 
Bade  the  bright  sun  backward  move, 

And  the  golden  orb  of  day, 

And  the  morning’s  orient  ray  :  795 

Glaring  o’er  the  wrestern  sky 
Hurl’d  his  ruddy  lightnings  fly: 

Clouds,  no  more  to  fall  in  rain, 

Northward  roll  their  deepening  train  : 

Libyan  Ammon’s  thirsty  seat,  800 

Wither’d  with  the  scorching  heat, 

Feels  nor  showers  nor  heavenly  dews 
Grateful  moisture  round  diffuse. 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

Fame  hath  said  (but  light  I  hold 

What  the  voice  of  Fame  hath  told)  805 

786  Atreus  and  Thyestes,  on  the  decease  of  their  father  Pe- 
lops,  contended  for  the  succession :  at  length  they  agreed  that 
the  regal  power  should  devolve  on  him  who  could  show  some¬ 
thing  miraculous  to  the  people.  Atreus  among  his  flocks  had  a 
ram,  whose  fleece  was  of  gold  :  this  Thyestes  fraudulently  ob¬ 
tained,  by  corrupting  Aerope,  his  brother’s  wife ;  and  showing 
it  to  the  people  as  something  miraculous,  claimed  the  sover¬ 
eignty. 


ELECTRA. 


135 


That  the  sun,  retiring-  far, 

Backward  roll’d  his  golden  car, 

And  his  vital  heat  withdrew, 

Sickening  man’s  bold  crimes  to  view. 

Mortals,  when  such  tales  they  hear,  810 

Tremble  with  a  holy  fear, 

And  the  offended  gods  adore  : 

She,  this  noble  pair  who  bore, 

Dared  to  murder  (deed  abhorr’d  !) 

This  forgot,  her  royal  lord.  815 

Cho.  Ah  me,  ah  me !  Heard  you  a  noise,  my 
friends  ? 

Or  doth  imagination  startle  me 

With  vain  alarms!  Not  indistinct  the  sounds, 

Like  Jove’s  low-muttering  thunder,  roll  along. 

Come  from  the  house,  revered  Electra,  come.  820 

ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

Elec.  What  hath  befallen,  my  friends  ?  what  dan¬ 
ger  comes ! 

Cho.  This  only  know  I,  death  is  in  that  noise. 
Elec.  I  heard  it,  distant,  yet  it  reach’d  my  ear. 
Cho.  The  sound  comes  rolling  from  afar,  yet  plain. 
Elec.  Comes  from  an  Argive,  or  my  friends,  the 
groan !  825 

Cho.  I  know  not ;  for  confused  the  voices  rise. 
Elec.  This  must  to  me  be  death :  why  then  delay  ! 
Cho.  Forbear ;  that  clear  thou  mayst  thy  fortunes 
know. 

Elec.  No  ;  we  are  vanquish’d  :  none  with  tidings 
comes. 

Cho.  They  will :  not  light  to  effect  a  monarch’s 
death.  830 

messenger,  electra,  chorus. 

Mes.  To  you,  ye  virgins  of  Mycenae,  joy 
I  bring,  to  all  his  friends  my  message  speaks  ; 
Orestes  is  victorious ;  on  the  groundi 


136 


EURIPIDES. 


iEgisthus,  Agamemnon’s  murderer,  lies  : 

Behooves  you  then  address  the  immortal  gods.  835 
Elec.  And  who  art  thou  ?  How  wilt  thou  prove 
thy  truth  1 

Mes.  Thy  brother’s  servant  know’st  thou  not  in 
me  1 

Elec.  0  thou  most  welcome,  through  my  fears  I 
scarce 

Distinguish’d  thee  :  I  recognise  thee  now. 

What,  is  my  father’s  hated  murderer  dead  ?  840 

Mes.  Twice,  what  thou  wishest,  I  his  death  an¬ 
nounce. 

Cho.  All-seeing  Justice,  thou  at  length  art  come. 
Elec.  What  was  the  manner  of  his  death  1  How 
fell 

This  vile  son  of  Thy estes  1  I  would  know. 

Mes.  Departing  from  this  house,  the  level  road 
We  enter’d  soon,  mark’d  by  the  chariot- wheel  846 
On  either  side.  Mycenae’s  noble  king 
Was  there,  amid  his  gardens,  with  fresh  streams 
Irriguous,  walking,  and  the  tender  boughs 
Of  myrtles,  for  a  wreath  to  bind  his  head,  850 

He  cropp’d  :  he  saw  us,  he  address’d  us  thus 
Aloud  : — “  Hail,  strangers  :  who  are  ye,  and  whence,  • 
Come  from  what  country  1”  Then  Orestes  said, 

“  Thessalians  ;  victims  to  Olympian  Jove 
We,  at  the  stream  of  Alpheus,  go  to  slay.”  855 
The  king  replied,  “  Be  now  my  guests,  and  share 
The  feast  with  me  ;  a  bullock  to  the  Nymphs 
I  sacrifice; 'at  morn’s  first  dawn  arise, 

Then  you  shall  go  :  but  enter  now  my  house.” 

Thus  as  he  spoke,  he  took  us  by  the  hand,  860 
And  led  us  nothing  loath  :  beneath  his  roof 
Soon  as  we  came,  he  bade  his  slaves  prepare 
Baths  for  the  strangers,  that  the  altars  nigh, 

Beside  the  lustral  ewers,  they  might  stand  : 

Orestes  then, — “  With  lavers  from  the  pure  865 
And  living  stream  we  lately  have  been  cleansed: 

But  with  thy  citizens  these  rites  to  share 


ELECTRA. 


137 


If  strangers  are  permitted,  we,  O  king, 

Are  ready  to  thy  hospitable  feast 
Nothing  averse.”  The  converse  here  had  end:  870 
Their  spears,  with  which  they  guard  the  king,  aside 
The  attendants  laid  ;  and  to  their  office  all 
Applied  their  hands  :  some  led  the  victim,  some 
The  basket  bore,  some  raised  the  flames,  and  placed 
The  caldrons  on  the  hearth  :  the  house  resounds. 
Thy  mother’s  husband  on  the  altars  cast  876 

The  salted  cakes,  and  thus  address’d  his  vows : 

“  Ye  Nymphs,  that  haunt  the  rocks,  these  hallow’d 
rites 

Oft  let  me  pay,  and  of  my  royal  spouse, 

Now  absent,  both  by  fortune  bless’d  as  now  ;  880 

And  let  our  foes,  as  now,  in  ruin  lie 
Thee  an*d  Orestes  naming.  But  my  lord 
Far  other  vows  address’d,  but  gave  his  words 
No  utterance,  to  regain  his  father’s  house. 
iEgisthus  then  the  sacrificing  sword  885 

Took  from  the  basket,  from  the  bullock’s  front 
To  cut  the  hair,  which  on  the  hallow’d  fire 
With  his  right  hand  he  threw  ;  and  as  his  slaves 
The  victim  held,  beneath  its  shoulder  plunged 
The  blade  ;  then  turning,  to  thy  brother  spoke : — 

“  Among  her  noble  arts  Thessalia  boasts  891 

To  rein  the  fiery  courser,  and  with  skill 
The  victim’s  limbs  to  sever  :  stranger,  take 
The  sharp-edged  steel,  and  show  that  Fame  reports 
Of  the  Thessalians  truth.”  The  Doric  blade  895 
Of  temper’d  metal  in  his  hand  he  grasp’d, 

And  from  his  shoulders  threw  his  graceful  robe ; 
Then  to  assist  him  in  the  toilsome  task 
Chose  Pylades,  and  bade  the  slaves  retire  : 

The  victim’s  foot  he  held,  and  its  white  flesh,  900 
His'hand  extending,  bared,  and  stripp’d  the  hide 
Ere  round  the  course  the  chariot  twice  could  roll, 
And  laid  the  entrails  open  :  in  his  hands 
The  fate-presaging  parts  Algisthus  took 
Inspecting :  in  the  entrails  was  no  lobe ;  905 

M2 


133 


EURIPIDES. 


The  valves  and  cells  the  gall  containing  show 
Dreadful  events  to  him,  that  view’d  them,  near. 
Gloomy  his  visage  darken’d  :  but  my  lord 
Ask’d  whence  his  sadden’d  aspect :  he  replied, — 

“  Stranger,  some  treachery  from  abroad  I  fear  :  910 
Of  mortal  men  Orestes  most  I  hate, 

The  son  of  Agamemnon :  to  my  house 
He  is  a  foe.” — “  Wilt  thou,”  replied  my  lord, 

“  King  of  this  state,  an  exile’s  treachery  dread  1 
But  that,  these  omens  leaving,  we  may  feast,  915 
Give  me  a  Phthian  for  this  Doric  blade  ; 

The  breast  asunder  I  will  cleave.”  He  took 
The  steel,  and  cut.  ASgisthus,  yet  intent, 

Parted  the  entrails ;  and  as  low  he  bow’d 
His  head,  thy  brother,  rising  to  the  stroke,.  920 
Drove  through  his  back  the  ponderous  axe,  and  rived 
The  spinal  joints  :  his  heaving  body  writhed 
And  quiver’d,  struggling  in  the  pangs  of  death. 

The  slaves  beheld,  and  instant  snatch’d  their  spears, 
Many  ’gainst  two  contesting  ;  but  my  lord  925 
And  Pylades  with  dauntless  courage  stood 
,  Opposed,  and  shook  their  spears  :  Orestes  then 
Thus  spoke  : — “  I  come  not  to  this  state  a  foe, 

Nor  to  my  servants  ;  but  my  father’s  death 
I  on  his  murderer  have  avenged  :  you  see  930 

The  unfortunate  Orestes:  kill  me  not, 

My  father’s  old  attendants.”  At  those  words 
They  all  restrain’d  their  spears  ;  and  he  was  known 
By  one  grown  hoary  in  the  royal  house. 

Crowns  on  thy  brother’s  head  they  instant  placed, 
With  shouts  of  joy.  He  comes,  and  with  him  brings 
Proof  of  his  daring,  not  a  Gorgon’s  head,  937 

But,  whom  thou  hatest,  JEgisthus:  blood  for  blood, 
Bitter  requital,  on  the  dead  is  fallen. 

CHORUS. 

Now  for  the  dance,  my  friend,  thy  foot  prepare;  940 
Now  with  joy  enraptured  tread, 

Light  as  the  hind  that  seems  to  bound  in  air, 

The  sprightly  measures  lead. 


ELECTRA. 


139 


Thy  brother  comes,  and  on  his  brows 

A  crown  hath  Conquest  placed  ;  945 

A  wreath  so  glorious  ne’er  the  victor  graced 
Where  famed  Alpheus  flows. 

Come  then,  and  with  my  choral  train 
To  Conquest  raise  the  joyful  strain. 

Elec.  0  Light,  and  thou  resplendent  orb  of  day 
O  Earth,  and  Night,  which  I  beheld  before,  951 
Now  I  view  freely,  freely  now  I  breathe, 

Now  that  jEgisthus,  by  whose  murdering  hand 
My  father  fell,  is  dead.  Whate’er  my  house 
To  grace  the  head  contains,  1  will  bring  forth,  955 
My  friends,  and  crown  my  brother’s  conquering 
brows. 

CHORUS. 

Whate’er  of  ornament  thy  house  contains 
Bring,  to  grace  thy  brother’s  head  : 

My  choir  the  dance,  accorded  to  sweet  strains 

Dear  to  the  Muse,  shall  lead ;  960 

For  now  our  kings,  whose  honour’d  hand 
The  sceptre  justly  sway’d, 

Low  in  the  dust  the  oppressive  tyrant  laid, 

Again  shall  rule  the  land. 

Rise  then,  my  voice,  with  cheerful  cries,  965 
Attemper’d  to  thy  triumph,  rise. 

ELECTRA,  ORESTES,  PYLADES,  CHORUS. 

Elec.  0  glorious  victor,  from  a  father  sprung 
Victorious  in  the  embattled  fields  of  Troy, 

Orestes,  for  thy  brows  receive  this  crown. 

From  the  vain  contest  of  the  lengthen’d  course  970 
Thou  comest  not,  but  victorious  o’er  thy  foe, 
ASgisthus  slain,  by  whom  thy  father  bled, 

And  I  have  been  undone.  Thou,  too,  brave  youth, 
Train’d  by  a  man  most  pious,  in  his  toils 
Faithful  associate,  Pylades,  receive  975 


140 


EURIPIDES. 


From  me  this  wreath  ;  for  thine  an  equal  share 
Of  danger :  ever  let  me  hold  you  bless’d. 

Ores.  First,  of  this  glorious  fortune  deem  the  gods, 
Electra,  sovereign  rulers  ;  then  to  me, 

The  minister  of  fortune  and  the  gods,  980 

Give  the  due  praise.  I  come  not  to  relate 
That  I  have  slain  JEgisthus  :  deeds  shall  speak 
For  me  ;  a  proof  to  all,  his  lifeless  corse 
I  bring  thee  :  treat  it  as  thy  soul  inclines  : 

Cast  it  by  ravenous  beasts  to  be  devour’d,  985 

Or  to  the  birds,  the  children  of  the  air, 

Fix  it,  impaled,  a  prey  :  the  tyrant  now, 
iEgisthus,  is  thy  slave,  once  call’d  thy  lord 

Elec.  Shame  checks  my  tongue :  yet  something 
would  I  speak. 

.  Ores.  What  wouldst  thou  1  Speak :  thy  fears  are 
vanish’d  now.  990 

Elec.  I  fear  to  insult  the  dead,  lest  censures  rise. 
Ores.  Not  one  of  all  mankind  would  censure  thee. 
Elec.  Hard  to  be  pleased  our  city,  prompt  to 
blame. 

Ores.  Speak  what  thou  wouldst,  my  sister ;  for  to 
him 

Inexpiable  enmity  we  bear.  995 

Elec.  Let  me  then  speak  :  but  where  shall  I  begin 
Thy  insults  to  recount  1  with  what  conclude  1 
Or  how  pursue  the  train  of  my  discourse  ? 

I  never  with  the  opening  morn  forbore 
To  breath  my  silent  plaints,  which  to  thy  face  1000 
I  wish’d  to  utter,  from  my  former  fears 
If  e’er  I  should  be  free :  I  now  am  free. 

Now,  to  thee  living  what  I  wish’d  to  speak, 

I  will  recount.  Thou  hast  destroy’d  my  hopes, 

Made  me  an  orphan,  him  and  me  bereft  1005 

Of  a  dear  father,  by  no  wrongs  enforced. 

My  mother  basely  wedding,  thou  hast  slain 
The  glorious  leader  of  the  Grecian  arms, 

Yet  never  didst  thou  tread  the  fields  of  Troy. 

Nay,  such  thy  folly,  thou  couldst  hope  to  find  1010 


ELECTRA. 


141 


My  mother,  shouldst  thou  wed  her,  naught  of  ill 
To  thee  intending  :  hence  my  father's  bed 
By  thee  was  foully  wrong’d.  But  let  him  know, 
Who  with  forbidden  love  another’s  wife 
Corrupts,  then,  by  necessity  constrain’d,  1015 

Receives  her  as  his  own, — should  he  expect 
To  find  that  chastity  preserved  to  him, 

Which  to  her  former  bed  was  not  preserved, 

He  must  be  wretched  from  his  frustrate  hope. 

And  what  a  life  of  misery  didst  thou  lead,  1020 
Though  not  by  thee  deem’d  ill !  Thy  conscious  mind 
Of  thy  unholy  nuptials  felt  the  guilt ; 

My  mother  knew  that  she  an  impious  man 
In  thee  had  wedded ;  and,  polluted  both, 

Thou  hadst  her  fortune,  she  thy  wickedness.  1025 
’Mong  all  the  Argives  this  had  Fame  divulged; — 
The  man  obeys  the  wife,  and  not  the  wife 
Her  husband :  shameful  this,  when  in  the  house 
The  woman  sovereign  rules,  and  not  the  man ; 

And  when  of  children  speaks  the  public  voice,  1030 
As  from  the  mother,  not  the  father  sprung, 

To  me  it  is  unpleasing.  He  who  weds 
A  wife  of  higher  rank  and  nobler  blood, 

Sinks  into  nothing,  in  her  splendour  lost. 

This  truth  unknown,  thy  pride  was  most  deceived, 
Thyself  as  great  thou  vauntedst,  in  the  power  1036 
Of  riches  vainly  elevate  :  but  these 
Are  nothing,  their  enjoyment  frail  and  brief: 

Nature  is  firm,  not  riches ;  she  remains 
For  ever,  and  triumphant  lifts  her  head  ;  1040 

But  unjust  wealth,  which  sojourns  with  the  base, 
Glitters  for  some  short  space,  then  flies  away. 

To  women  thy  demeanour  1  shall  pass 
Unmention’d,  for  to  speak  it  ill  beseems 
A  virgin’s  tongue  ;  yet  I  shall  make  it  known  1045 
By  indistinct  suggestion  :  arrogance 
Swell’d  thy  vain  mind,  for  that  the  royal  house 
Was  thine,  and  beauty  graced  thy  perfect  form. 

But  be  not  mine  a  husband,  whose  fair  face 


142 


EURIPIDES. 


In  softness  with  a  virgin’s  vies,  but  one  1050 

Of  manly  manners  ;  for  the  sons  of  such 
By  martial  toils  are  train’d  to  glorious  deedu ; 

The  beauteous  only  to  the  dance  give  grace. 

Perish,  thou  wretch,  to  nothing  noble  form’d : 

Such  wast  thou  found,  and  vengeance  on  thy  head 
At  length  hath  burst:  so  perish  all,  that  dare  1056 
Atrocious  deeds  !  Nor  deem,  though  fair  his  course 
At  first,  that  he  hath  vanquish’d  Justice,  ere 
He  shall  have  reach’d  the  goal,  the  end  of  life. 

Cho.  His  deeds  were  dreadful :  dreadful  hath  he 
felt  1060 

Your  vengeance.  With  great  power  is  Justice  arm’d. 

Ores.  So  let  it  be.  But  bear  this  body  hence, 

My  slaves  ;  to  darkness  let  it  be  consign’d; 

That  when  my  mother  comes,  before  she  feels 
The  deadly  stroke,  she  may  not  see  the  corse.  1065 
Elec.  Forbear :  to  other  subjects  turn  we  now. 
Ores.  W7hat,  from  Mycenae  see  I  aid  advance  1 
Elec.  This  is  no  friendly  aid ;  my  mother  comes. 
Ores.  As  we  could  wish,  amid  the  toils  she  runs. 
Elec.  High  on  her  car  in  splendid  state  she  comes. 
Ores.  What  shall  we  do  1  Our  mother  shall  we 
kill  ?  1071 

Elec.  On  seeing  her  hath  pity  seized  thy  heart! 
Ores.  She  bore  me,  bred  me :  her  how  shall  I 
slay! 

Elec.  As  she  thy  noble  father  slew  and  mine. 
Ores.  O  Phoebus,  wild  and  rash  the  charge  thou 
gavest.  1075 

Elec.  Who  then  are  sage,  if  Phoebus  be  unwise  ! 
Ores.  The  charge  to  kill  my  mother:  impious 
deed! 

Elec.  What  guilt  were  thine  to  avenge  thy  father’s 
death ! 

Ores.  Now  pure,  my  mother’s  murderer  I  should 
fly.  1079 

Elec.  Will  vengeance  for  thy  father  be  a  crime  ! 
Ores.  But  1  shall  suffer  for  my  mother’s  blood. 


ELECfRA.  143 

EleO.  To  whom  thy  father’s  vengeance  then 
assign  1 

Ores.  Like  to  the  god  perchance  some  demon 
spoke. 

Elec.  What,  from  the  sacred  tripod]  Vain  sur¬ 
mise. 

Ores.  Ne’er  can  my  reason  deem  this  answer  just. 

Elec.  Sink  notrunmann’d,  to  weak  and  timorous 
thoughts.  1086 

Ores.  For  her  then  shall  I  spread  the  fatal  net  1 

Elec.  In  which  her  husband,  caught  by  thee,  was 
slain. 

Ores.  The  house  I  enter.  Dreadful  the  intent; 
Dreadful  shall  be  my  deeds.  If  such  your  will.  1090 
Ye  heavenly  powers,  so  let  it  be  ;  to  me 
A  bitter,  yet  a  pleasing  task  assign’d. 

clytemnestra,  electra,  chorus. 

Cho.  Imperial  mistress  of  the  Argive  realms, 
Drawing  from  Tyndarus  thy  noble  birth, 

And  sister  to  the  illustrious  sons  of  Jove,  1095 
Who  mid  the  flaming  ether  dwell  in  stars, 

By  mortals  labouring  in  the  ocean  waves 
In  honour  as  their  great  preservers  held, 

Hail !  equal  with  the  gods  I  thee  revere, 

Thy  riches  such,  and  such  thy  happy  state  ;  1100 

Thy  fortune,  queen,  our  veneration  claims. 

Cly.  First  from  the  car,  ye  Trojan  dames,  alight, 
Then  take  my  hand,  that  I  too  may  descend. 

The  temple  of  the  gods  with  Phrygian  spoils 
Are  richly  graced  :  these,  from  the  land  of  Troy  1105 
Selected,  for  the  daughter  which  I  lost, 

A  small  but  honourable  prize  are  mine. 

Elec.  And  may  not  I  (for  from  my  father’s  house 
I  am  an  outcast  slave,  this  wretched  hut  1 109 

My  mean  abode)  thy  bless’d  hand,  mother,  hold  1 

Cly.  My  slaves  are  here  :  labour  not  thou  for  me. 

Elec.  Why  hast  thou  driven  me  from  the  house  a 
slave  1 


144 


EURIPIDES. 


For  when  the  house  was  taken,  I  was  seized, 

As  these,  an  orphan  of  my  father  reft. 

Cly.  Such  were  the  measures  which  thy  father 
plann’d,  1115 

Where  it  beseem’d  him  least  against  his  friends : 

For  I  will  speak  (though  when  a  woman  forms 
An  ill  opinion,  from  her  tongue  will  flow 
Much  bitterness)  my  wrongs  from  him  received : 
These  known,  if  for  thy  hatred  thou  hast  cause,  1120 
’Tis  just  that  thou  abhor  me ;  but  if  not, 

Why  this  abhorrence  1  Me  did  Tyndarus 
Give  to  thy  father,  not  that  I  should  die, 

Nor  my  poor  children :  yet  he  led  away 
(Her  nuptials  with  Achilles  the  pretence),  1125 

To  Aulis  led  my  daughter,  in  whose  bay 
His  fleet  was  station’d ;  on  the  altar  there 
My  Iphigenia,  like  a  blooming  flower, 

Did  he  mow  down:  averting  hostile  arms, 

That  threaten’d  desolation  to  the  state,  1130 

Or  for  the  welfare  of  his  house,  to  save 
His  other  children,  if  for  many  one 
A  victim  he  had  slain,  the  deed  had  found 
Forgiveness  ;  but  for  Helena,  because 
She  was  a  wanton,  and  his  faithless  wife  1135 

Her  husband  could  not  punish,  for  this  cause 
My  daughter  he  destroy’d :  yet  for  these  wrongs, 
Great  as  they  were,  I  had  not  been  enraged, 

Nor  had  I  slain  my  husband ;  but  he  came, 

And  with  him  brought  the  raving  prophetess  1140 
Admitted  to  his  bed ;  and  thus  one  house 
Contain’d  two  wives.  Women  indeed  are  frail, 

Nor  other  shall  I  speak  ;  but  this  inferr’d, 

Whene’er  the  husband  from  his  honour  swerves, 
From  his  connubial  bed  estranged,  the  wife  1145 
Will  imitate  his  manners,  and  obtain 
Some  other  friend :  yet  Slander  ’gainst  our  sex 
Raises  her  voice  aloud  ;  while  those  who  cause 
These  trespasses,  the  men,  no  blame  shall  reach. 

Had  Menelaus  in  sec.ret  from  his  house  1150 


ELECTRA. 


145 


Been  borne,  ought  T  Orestes  to  have  slain, 

To  save  my  sister’s  husband?  His  son’s  death 
How  had  thy  father  brook’d  ?  And  should  not  he, 
Who  slew  my  daughter,  die?  Was  I  to  bear 
Patient  his  wrongs  ?  I  slew  him;  to  that  path,  1155 
Which  only  I  could  tread,  I  turn’d  my  foot, 

Uniting  with  his  foes ;  for  of  his  friends 
Against  him  who  with  me  would  lift  the  sword? 

If,  that  thy  father  not  with  justice  died, 

Aught  thou  wouldst  urge  against  me,  freely  speak. 

Elec.  What  thou  hast  said  is  just;  yet  shame 
attends  1  1161 

That  justice :  for  the  wife,  if  aught  she  know 
Of  sober  sense,  should  to  her  husband  yield 
In  all  things  unreluctant.  If  thy  mind 
Dissents,  nor  to  the  measure  of  my  speech  1165 
Accedes,  yet  let  my  mother  her  last  words 
Call  to  her  memory:  let  me  freely  speak. 

Cly.  I  now  repeat  them,  nor  retract,  my  child. 

Elec.  But,  hearing,  wilt  thou  not  inflict  some  ill  ? 

Cly.  I  will  not,  but  with  kindness  will  requite. 

Elec.  Then  I  will  speak,  and  preface  thus  my 
speech.  1171 

I  wish,  my  mother,  that  a  better  mind 
Were  thine  ;  for  excellence  of  form  hath  brought 
To  thee  and  Helena  deserved  praise. 

Nature  hath  form’d  you  sisters,  light  and  vain,  1175 
Of  Castor  much  unworthy.  She  was  borne 
Away,  and  by  her  own  consent  undone: 

Thou  hast  destroy’d  the  noblest  man  of  Greece  : 

Thy  daughter’s  death  thy  pretext,  thou  hast  slain 
Thy  husband:  but  so  well  as  I  none  knows,  1180 
Before  it  was  decreed  that  she  should  die, 

While  from  Mycenae  his  departure  yet 
Was  recent,  at  the  mirror  didst  thou  form 
The  graceful  ringlets  of  thy  golden  hair. 

The  wife,  that  in  her  husband’s  absence  seeks  1185 
With  curious  care  to  set  her  beauty  forth, 

Mark  as  a  wanton  :  she  with  nicest  skill 
Eurip.  Vol.  III. — N 


146 


EURIPIDES. 


Would  not  adorn  her  person  to  appear 
Abroad,  but  that  she  is  inclined  to  ill. 

Of  all  the  Grecian  dames,  didst  thou  alone,  1190 
I  know,  rejoice,  when  prosperous  were  the  arms 
Of  Troy  ;  but  when  defeated,  on  thine  eyes 
A  cloud  hung  dark  :  for  never  didst  thou  wish 
That  Agamemnon  should  from  Troy  return. 

Yet  glorious  was  the  occasion  offer’d  thee  1195 
The  strength  of  female  virtue  to  display  : 

Thou  hadst  a  husband  in  no  excellence 

Inferior  to  ASgisthus  ;  and  so  vile 

Thy  sister’s  conduct,  thou  hadst  power  from  thence 

The  highest  honour  to  thyself  to  draw ;  1200 

For  in  the  foulness  of  the  example,  Vice 

Instructive  holds  a  mirror  to  the  good. 

But  if  my  father,  as  thou  urgest,  kill’d 
Thy  daughter,  how  have  I  to  thee  done  wrong  1 
My  brother  how  1  Or  why,  when  thou  hadst  slain 
Thy  husband,  didst  thou  not  to  us  consign  1206 
Our  father’s  house,  but.  make  it  the  lewd  scene 
Of  other  nuptials  purchased  by  that  prize  ? 

Nor  is  thy  husband  exiled  for  thy  son ; 

Nor  hath  he  died  for  me,  though,  far  beyond  1210 
My  sister’s  death,  me  living  hath  he  slain. 

If  blood,  in  righteous  retribution,  calls 

For  blood,  by  me  behooves  it  thou  shouldst  bleed, 

And  by  thy  son  Orestes,  to  avenge 

My  father  :  there  if  this  was  just,  alike  1215 

Is  it  just  here.  Unwise  is  he  who  weds, 

Allured  by  riches  or  nobility, 

A  vicious  woman  :  all  that  greatness  brings 
Must  yield  to  that  endear’d,  domestic  bliss, 

Which  on  the  chaste  though  humble  bed  attends. 

Cho.  Respecting  women  Fortune  ever  rules  1221 
In  nuptials :  some  a  source  of  joy  I  see 
To  mortals  ;  some  nor  joy  nor  honour  know. 

Cly.  Always,  my  daughter,  was  thy  nature  form’d 
Fond  of  thy  father :  not  unusual  this :  1225 

Some  love  the  men,  and  on  their  mother’s  some 


ELECTRA. 


147 


With  greater  warmth  their  sweet  affections  place. 

I  will  forgive  thee :  nor  indeed,  my  child, 

In  deeds  done  by  me  do  I  so  rejoice. 

But  do  I  see  thee,  fresh  from  child-birth,  thus  1230 
Unbathed,  and  in  these  wretched  vestments  clad  1 
Ah,  my  unhappy  counsels,  that  I  urged 
My  husband  ’gainst  thee  to  a  rage  too  harsh ! 

Elec.  Too  late  to  breathe  the  sigh,  when  thou 
canst  give 

No  healing  medicine.  My  father  dead,  1235 

Why  not  recall  thy  outcast,  wandering  son  1 
Cly.  I  fear  :  my  welfare  I  regard,  not  his, 

Said  to  breathe  vengeance  for  his  father’s  death. 
Elec.  Against  us  why  thy  husband  so  enrage  1 
Cly.  Such  is  his  nature;  and  impetuous  thine. 
Elec.  My  grief  is  great:  but  I  will  check  my 
rage.  1241 

Cly.  And  he  no  longer  will  be  harsh  to  thee. 
Elec.  High  his  aspiring ;  in  my  house  he  dwells. 
Cly.  Seest  thou  what  contests  thou  wouldst  raise 
anew  ? 

Elec.  I  say  no  more  :  I  fear  him,  as  I  fear — 

Cly.  Cease  this  discourse.  My  presence  why 
required  1  1246 

Elec.  That  I  am  late  a  mother,  thou,  I  ween, 
Hast  heard:  make  thou  the  sacrifice  for  me. 

I  have  no  skill,  on  the  tenth  rising  morn 
What  for  my  son  the  rites  require  ;  for  me  1250 

(This  my  first  child)  experience  hath  not  taught. 
Cly.  This  is  her  task,  who  aided  at  the  birth. 
Elec.  Unaided  and  alone  I  bore  the  child. 

Cly.  So  neighbourless,  so  friendless  stands  thy 
house  ? 

Elec. .None  with  the  poor  a  friendship  wish  to 
form.  1255 

Cly.  Then  I  will  go,  and  offer  to  the  gods, 

The  days  accomplish’d,  for  thy  son.  This  grace 
For  thee  perform’d,  I  hasten  to  the  fields, 

Where  to  the  nymphs  my  husband  now  presents 
The  hallow’d  victim.  My  attendants,  drive  1260 


148 


EURIPIDES. 


These  chariots  hence,  and  lead  the  steeds  to  stalls ; 
When  you  imagine  to  the  gods  these  rites 
I  shall  have  paid,  again  be  present  here  : 

My  husband  too  behooves  it  me  to  grace. 

Elec.  Let  iny  poor  house  receive  thee  ;  but  take 
heed  1265 

Lest  thy  rich  vests  the  blackening  smoke  defiles. 
There  shalt  thou  sacrifice,  as  to  the  gods 
Behooves  thee  sacrifice  :  the  basket  there 
Is  for  the  rites  prepared,  and  the  keen  blade 
Which  struck  the  bull:  beside  him  shalt  thou  fall 
By  a  like  blow.  In  Pluto’s  courts  his  bride  1271 
He  shall  receive,  with  whom  in  heaven’s  fair  light 
Thy  couch  was  shared  :  to  thee  this  grace  I  give  : 
Thou  vengeance  for  my  father  shalt  give  me. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE. 

Refluent  the  waves  of  mischief  swell ;  1275 

The  forceful  whirlwind  veers  around. 

Then  in  the  bath  my  monarch  fell : 

The  roofs,  the  battlements  resound  ; 

The  polish’d  stones,  that  form  the  walls, 

His  voice  re-echo  as  the  hero  falls: —  1280 

“  Why,  barbarous  woman,  by  thy  hand, 

After  ten  years  of  war  on  Phrygia’s  plain 
Return’d  victorious  to  my  native  land, 

Why,  barbarous  woman,  am  I  slain?” 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Now,  Justice,  for  the  injured  bed  1285 

Which  light  Love  gloried  to  betray. 

Turns  back  with  vengeance  on  her  head. 

Who  dared  her  lord  to  slay. 

Long  absent  in  the  fields  of  fame  # 

Scarce  to  the  high  Cyclopean  towers  he  came,  1290 
Eager  to  shed  his  blood  she  strove  ; 

3  With  her  own  hand  the  keen-edged  axe  she 
sway’d, 

With  her  own  hand  the  murderous  weapon  drove. 
And  low  her  hapless  husband  laid, — 


ELECTRA. 


149 


EPODE. 

Hapless,  to  such  a  pest  allied,  1295 

She,  like  a  lioness,  in  savage  pride 
Mid  shaggy  forests  wild  that  feeds, 

Dared  such  atrocious  deeds. 

Cly.  0,  by  the  gods,  my  children,  do  not  kill 
Your  mother!  [ within . 

Cho.  Heard  you  in  the  house  her  cry. 

Cly.  Ah  me,  ah  me!  1301 

Cho.  I  too  lament  thy  fate, 

Fallen  by  thy  children’s  hands.  The  avenging  god 
Dispenses  justice  when  occasion  calls. 

Dreadful  thy  punishment ;  but  dreadful  deeds, 
Unhappy,  ’gainst  thy  husband  didst  thou  dare.  1305 
Stain’d  with  their  mother’s  recent-streaming  blood, 
See,  from  the  house  they  come,  terrible  proof 
Of  ruthless  slaughter.  Ah  !  there  is  no  house, 

Nor  hath  been,  with  calamities  oppress’d, 

More  than  the  wretched  race  of  Tantalus.  1310 

ORESTES,  PYLADES,  ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

Ores.  0  Earth,  and  thou  all-seeing  Jove,  behold 
These  bloody,  these  detested  deeds!  In  death, 
Stretch’d  on  the  ground,  beneath  my  hand  they  lie, 
Both  lie,  a  sad  atonement  for  my  wrongs. 

Elec.  Much  to  be  mourn’d,  my  brother,  to  be 
mourn’d  1315 

Wjth  tears,  and  I  the  cause.  Uncheck’d,  unaw’d 
I  to  my  mother  came  ;  I  boldly  came 
To  her  that  gave  me  birth.  Alas  thy  fate, 

Thy  fate,  my  mother !  Thou  hast  suffer’d  ills, 

And  from  thy  children,  whose  remembrance  time 
Can  ne’er  efface,  deeds  ruthless,  and  far  worse  1321 
Than  ruthless  :  yet  with  justice  hast  thou  paid 
This  debt  to  vengeance  for  my  father’s  blood. 

Ores.  O  Phoebus,  vengeance  from  thy  hallow’d 
shrine 

Didst  thou  command ;  unutterable  deeds,  1325 

N  2 


]50 


EURIPIDES. 


But  not  obscure,  through  thee  are  done,  from  Greece 
The  bloody  bed  removed.  But  to  what  state 
Shall  I  now  go,  what  hospitable  house  1 
Who  will  receive  me  1  Who,  that  fears  the  gods,  1329 
Will  look  on  me,  stain’d  wiih  my  mother’s  blood  ? 

Elec.  And  whither,  to  what  country  shall  I  fly, 
W  retch  that  I  ami  What  nuptials  shall  be  mine  1 
What  husband  lead  me  to  the  bridal  bed  1 
Ores.  Again,  again  thy  sober  sense  returns, 
Changed  with  the  gale  :  thy  thoughts  are  holy  now, 
Then  ruled  byphrensy.  To  what  dreadful  deeds, 

0  thou  most  dear,  hast  thou  thy  brother  urged  1337 
Reluctant  ?  Didst  thou  see  her,  when  she  drew 
Her  vests  aside,  and  bared  her  breasts,  and  bow’d 
To  earth  her  body  whence  I  drew  my  birth,  1340 
While  in  her  locks  my  furious  hand  I  wreathed  1 
Elec.  WTith  anguish’d  mind,  I  know,  thou  didst 
proceed, 

When  heard  thy  wailing  mother’s  piteous  cries. 
Ores.  These  words,  while  with  her  hands  she 
stroked  my  cheeks, 

Burst  forth  : — “  Thy  pity  I  implore,  my  son.”  1345 
Soothing  she  spoke,  as  on  my  cheeks  she  hung, 

That  bloodless  from  my  hand  the  sword  might  fall. 

Cho.  Wretched  Electra,  how  couldst  thou  sustain 
A  sight  like  this  1  How  bear  thy  mother’s  death, 
Seeing  her  thus  before  thine  eyes  expire  1  1350 

Ores.  Holding  my  robe  before  mine  eyes,  I  raised 
The  sword,  and  plunged  it  in  my  mother’s  breast. 
Elec.  I  urged  thee  to  it:  I  too  touch’d  the  sword. 
Cho.  Of  deeds  most  dreadful  this,  which  thou  hast 
done. 

Cover  thy  mother’s  body ;  in  her  robes  1355 

Decent  compose  her  wounded  limbs.  Thou  gavest 
Being  to  those  who  were  to  murder  thee. 

Elec.  Behold,  my  friends,  and  not  my  friends,  we 
wrap 

1358  Electra  here  addresses  herself  to  the  Chorus  and  tha 
Trojan  dames  who  had  attended  Clytemnestra. 


ELECTRA. 


151 


Her  robes  around  her,  to  our  house  the  end 
Of  mighty  ills. 

Cho.  But  see,  above  the  house  1360 

What  radiant  forms  appear !  Or  are  they  gods 
Celestial  ?  Mortals  through  the  ethereal  way 
Walk  not:  but  why  to  human  sight  disclosed! 

CASTOR  AND  POLLUX. 

Cas.  Hear,  son  of  Agamemnon ;  for  to  thee 
Thy  mother’s  brothers,  twin-born  sons  of  Jove,  1365 
Castor,  and  this  my  brother  Pollux,  speak. 

Late  having  calm’d  the  ocean  waves,  that  swell’d, 
The  labouring  vessel  menacing,  we  came 
To  Argos,  where  our  sister  we  beheld, 

Thy  mother  slain :  with  justice  vengeance  falls  1370 
On  her  :  in  thee  unholy  is  the  deed. 

Yet  Phoebus,  Phoebus — but,  my  king  is  he  ; — 

I  will  be  silent :  yet,  though  wise,  he  gave 
To  thee  response  not  wise :  but  I  must  praise 
Perforce  these  things.  Thou  now  must  do  what 
Fate  1375 

And  Jove  decree.  To  Pylades  aflfy 
Electra  ;  let  him  lead  her  to  his  house 
His  bride  :  but  leave  thou  Argos  ;  for  its  gates, 

Thy  mother  slain,  to  thee  is  not  allow’d 
To  enter ;  for  the  Furies,  hounds  of  hell,  1380 
Will  chase  thee,  wandering,  and  to  madness  whirl’d. 
Go  then  to  Athens,  seat  of  Pallas ;  clasp 
Her  hallow’d  image  :  that  they  touch  thee  not, 

She  o’er  thy  head  her  Gorgon  shield  will  hold : 

They  from  her  dreadful  dragons  will  start  back  1385 
Appall’d.  The  mount  of  Mars  is  there,  where  first 
On  blood  the  gods  sat  judges,  when,  enraged 
That  by  unhallow’d  nuptials  wrong  had  stain’d 
His  daughter,  Mars,  to  ruthless  vengeance  fired, 

Slew  Halirrhotius,  of  ocean’s  lord  1390 


1372  Peculiarly  his  king,  as  the  god  of  light ;  though  this  is 
a  general  title  frequently  given  to  Apollo. 


152 


EURIPIDES. 


The  son.  Most  righteous  from  that  time  is  held 
The  judgment  there,  and  by  the  gods  confirm’d ; 
There  thou  must  make  appeal ;  this  bloody  deed 
Be  there  decided  :  from  the  doom  of  blood 
Absolved,  the  equal  numbers  of  the  shells  1395 
Shall  save  thee,  that  thou  die  not ;  for  the  blame 
Apollo  on  himself  will  charge,  whose  voice 
Ordain’d  thy  mother’s  death  :  in  future  times 
This  law  for  ever  shall  be  ratified, 

The  votes  in  equal  number  shall  absolve. 

At  this  the  dreadful  goddesses,  with  grief 
Deep  wounded,  through  the  yawning  earth 
sink 

Ev’n  at  the  mount ;  thence  an  oracular  gulf 
Hallow’d,  revered  by  mortals.  On  the  banks 
Of  Alpheus,  the  Lycaean  temple  near, 

Thou  must  inhabit  an  Arcadian  state  ; 

And  from  thy  name  the  city  shall  be  call’d. 

This  I  have  said  to  thee ;  but  in  the  earth 
The  citizens  of  Athens  shall  entomb 
The  body  of  iEgisthus  :  the  last  rites, 

Due  to  thy  mother,  Menelaus  shall  pay 
(At  Nauplia  late  from  vanquish’d  Troy  arrived), 

And  Helena:  from  Egypt,  from  the  house 
Of  Proteus  she  returns  :  to  llion’s  towers 
She  went  not;  but  that  strife  and  bloody  war  1415 
’Mong  mortal  men  might  rise,  an  imaged  form 
Resembling  Helena  Jove  sent  to  Troy. 

This  virgin  now  let  Pylades  receive 
His  bride,  and  home  to  the  Achaian  land 
Conduct  her :  him,  to  thee  in  words  allied,  1420 
To  Phocis  let  him  lead,  and  give  him  there, 

Just  to  his  modest  virtue,  ample  wealth. 

Thou  to  the  narrow  Isthmus  bend  thy  steps, 

Thence  speed  thee  to  the  bless’d  Cecropian  state. 
The  fated  doom,  assign’d  for  blood,  fulfill’d,  1425. 
Thou  shalt  be  happy,  from  thy  toils  released. 

Cho.  O  sons  of  Jove,  may  we  presume  to  ap¬ 
proach, 


1400 

shall 

1405 

1410 


ELECTRA. 


153 


And  converse  with  you  be  allow’d  to  hold  ? 

Cas.  You  may:  no  curse  this  blood  derives  on 
you. 

Ores.  May  I  address  you,  sons  of  Tyndarus  1  1430 

Cas.  Thou  mayst:  to  Phoebus  this  dire  deed  I 
charge. 

Cho.  Gods  as  you  are,  and  brothers  to  the  slain, 
Why  from  the  house  did  not  your  power  avert 
This  deadly  ill  I 

Cas.  The  dire  necessity 

Of  fate  impell’d  it,  and  the  voice  unwise  1435 

Of  Phoebus  from  his  shrine. 

Elec.  But  me  what  voice 

Of  Phoebus  urged,  what  oracle,  that  I 
The  murderer  of  my  mother  should  become  1 

Cas.  Common  the  actions,  common  too  the  fates. 
One  demon,  hostile  to  your  parents,  rent  1440 
The  hearts  of  both. 

Ores.  For  such  a  length  of  time 

Not  seen,  loved  sister,  am  I  torn  so  soon 
From  thy  dear  converse,  leaving  thee  so  soon, 

And  left  1 

Cas.  She  hath  a  husband,  and  a  house ; 

Nor  suffers  aught  severe,  save  that  she  leaves  1445 
The  Argive  state. 

Ores.  And  what  severer  wo 

Can  rend  the  anguish’d  heart,  than  to  be  driven 
An  outcast  from  our  country  ?  I  must  leave 
My  father’s  house,  and  for  my  mother’s  blood 
The  sentence  pass’d  by  foreign  laws  abide.  1450 

Cas.  Resume  thy  courage  :  to  the  sacred  seat 
Of  Pallas  shalt  thou  come  :  be  firm  ;  endure. 

Elec.  O  my  loved  brother,  clasp,  O  clasp  my 
breast 

Close  to  thy  breast ;  for  from  our  father’s  house 
A  mother’s  curse  hath  torn  us,  dreadful  curse  !  1455 

Ores.  Thus  let  me  clasp  thee  :  o’er  me,  as  now 
dead,  • 

As  o’er  my  tomb  thy  lamentations  pour. 


154 


EURIPIDES. 


Cas.  Ah,  thou  hast  utter’d  sorrow  ev’n  to  gods 
Mournful  to  hear.  In  me,  in  heaven’s  high  powers, 
Is  pity  lor  the  woes  of  mortal  men.  1460 

Ores.  I  shall  no  more  behold  thee. 

Elec.  And  no  more 

Shall  I  come  near  thy  sight. 

Ores.  No  more  with  thee 

Shall  I  hold  converse :  this  my  last  address. 

Elec.  Farewell,  Mycenae  !  and  you,  virgins,  born. 
In  the  same  state  with  me,  farewell,  farewell !  1465 
Ores.  O  thou  most  faithful,  dost  thou  go  ev’n  now  l 
Elec.  I  go ;  but  dew  my  soften’d  eyes  with  tears. 
Ores.  Go,  Pylades ;  go  thou  with  joy,  and  wed 
Electra. 

Cas.  Them  the  nuptial  rites  await. 

Haste  thou  to  Athens ;  fly  these  hounds  of  hell ;  1470 
For  ’gainst  thee  they  their  hideous  steps  advance, 
Gloomy  and  dark,  their  hands  with  serpents  arm’d, 
Rejoicing  in  the  dreadful  pains  they  give. 

To  the  Sicilian  sea  with  speed  we  go, 

To  save  the  vessels  labouring  in  the  waves ;  1475 

But  to  the  impious  through  the  ethereal  tract 
We  no  assistance  bring  :  but  those,  to  whom 
Justice  and  sanctity  of  life  is  dear, 

We  from  their  dangerous  toils  relieve,  and  save. 

Let  no  one  then  unjustly  will  to  act,  1480 

Nor  in  one  vessel  with  the  perjured  sail : 

A  god  to  mortals  this  monition  gives. 

Cho.  O  be  you  bless’d  !  and  those  to  whom  is  given 
Calmly  the  course  of  mortal  life  to  pass, 

By  no  affliction  sunk,  pronounce  we  bless’d.  1485 


I 


ORESTES. 


?s 


DRAMATIS  PERSONAL 

ElECTRA. 

Helena. 

Orestes. 

Men  klaus 
Tyndarus. 

PyLaDES. 

Apollo 

Messenger. 

Phrygian  Slave. 
Chorus  of  Argive  virgin*. 


f 


ORESTES. 

I 


ARGUMENT. 

This  play  represents  Orestes  pursued  by  the  enmity  of  tne 
Furies,  as  a  punishment  for  the  murder  of  his  mother ;  while 
the  Argives,  by  the  instigations  of  Tyndarus,  the  father  of 
Clytemnestra,  prefer  a  charge  of  parricide  against  the  young 
prince  and  his  sister.  At  this  critical  juncture  Menelaus 
arrives  at  Argos  with  Helen,  and  is  solicited  by  his  unhappy 
nephew  to  support  the  cause  of  his  relatives  before  the  as¬ 
sembled  judges  :  apprehensions  of  danger,  however,  prevent 
him  from  interfering  in  their  behalf,  and  Orestes,  with  Electra, 
are  condemned  to  death.  In  order  to  punish  the  apathy  of 
Menelaus,  Pylades  proposes  to  his  friend  to  seize  Helen  by 
stratagem,  who  is  about  to  fall  a  sacrifice  to  their  resentment, 
when  she  suddenly  and  miraculously  disappears,  and  is  en¬ 
rolled  in  the  number  of  the  gods.  The  two  friends  next,  by 
the  artifices  of  Electra,  gain  possession  of  Hermione,  the 
daughter  of  Menelaus,  whom  they  threaten  with  immediate 
destruction,  when  Apollo  interferes,  and  rescues  the  maiden 
from  impending  danger ;  directing  Menelaus  to  bestow  his 
daughter  on  Orestes,  to  whom  he  prescribes  the  means  neces¬ 
sary  for  expiating  his  parricidal  guilt. — [The  scene  is  in  the 
royal  palace  at  Argos.] 


electra. 

There  is  not  in  the  stores  of  angry  Heaven 
Aught  terrible,  affliction  or  distress, 

But  miserable  man  bears  its  full  weight. 

Ev’n  Tantalus,  the  son  of  Jove,  the  bless’d, 
(Not  to  malign  his  fate)  hangs  in  the  air, 
Eurip.  Vol.  III. — O 


5 


168 


EURIPIDES. 


And  trembles  at  the  rock,  which  o’er  his  head 
Projects  its  threatening-  mass  ;  a  punishment, 

They  say,  for  that  to  heaven’s  high  feast  admitted, 

A  mortal  equal  with  the  immortals  graced, 

He  curb’d  not  the  intemperance  of  his  tongue :  10 

The  sire  of  Pelops  he,  of  Atreus  this, 

For  whom  the  Fates  weaving  a  diadem, 

Wove  discord  with  the  thread,  to  kindle  war 
Betwixt  the  brothers,  Atreus  and  Thyestes. 

But  why  recite  things  horrible  to  tell  1  15 

Him  Atreus  feasted,  having  slain  his  sons. 

From  Atreus  (may  oblivion  hide  the  rest !) 

The  illustrious  Agamemnon  (if  illustrious) 

And  Menelaus  had  birth  ;  Aerope 

Of  Crete  their  mother.  Menelaus  espoused  120 

The  fatal  Helen,  by  the  gods  abhorr’d  : 

The  imperial  Agamemnon  woo’d  the  bed 
Of  Clytemnestra,  memorable  to  Greece  : 

From  her  three  daughters  sprung,  Chrysothemis, 
And  Iphigenia,  and  myself  Electra,  25 

One  son,  Orestes,  from  this  wicked  mother, 

Who  in  the  inextricable  robe  entangled 
Her  husband  murder’d,  for  a  cause  which  ill 
Becomes  a  virgin’s  modest  lips  to  unfold. 

The  injustice  of  Apollo  must  I  blame  1  30 

Orestes  he  commands  to  slay  his  mother, 

Nor  bears  to  all  the  glory  of  the  deed. 

Not  disobedient  to  the  god,  he  slew  her. 

I  had  my  share,  such  as  a  woman  might, 

And  Pylades  assisted  in  the  act.  35 

Since  then  the  poor  Orestes  pines  away, 

Impair’d  with  cruel  sickness  :  on  his  bed 
He  lies  ;  his  mother’s  blood  to  phrensy  whirls 
His  tortured  sense  :  the  avenging  powers,  that  haunt 
His  soul  with  terrors  thus,  I  dare  not  name.  40 
The  sixth  day  this,  since  on  the  hallow’d  pile 
My  slaughter’d  mother  purged  her  stains  away, 

No  food  hath  pass’d  his  lips,  no  bath  refresh’d 
His  limbs ;  but  in  his  garments  cover’d  close, 


ORESTES. 


159 


When  his  severe  disease  abates  a  little,  45 

He  melts  in  tears  ;  and  sometimes  from  his  couch 
Starts  furious,  like  a  colt  burst  from  his  yoke. 
Meantime  the  state  of  Argos  hath  decreed 
That  sheltering  roof,  and  fire,  and  conference 
Be  interdicted  to  us  matricides  ;  50 

And  this  decisive  day  the  states  pronounce 
Our  doom,  to  die  crush’d  with  o’erwhelming  stones, 
Or  by  the  avenging  sword  plunged  in  our  breasts. 
Yet  have  we  one  small  ray  of  brightening  hope, 
Hope  that  we  die  not :  for  from  Troy  return’d,  55 
After  long  wanderings  Menelaus  arrives, 

His  vessels  in  the  Nauplian  harbour  moor’d, 

And  to  this  strand  impels  his  eager  oar  : 

But  the  wo-working  Helen  in  the  shades 
Of  sheltering  night,  lest  some,  whose  sons  were  slain 
Beneath  the  walls  of  Troy,  seeing  her  walk  61 
In  day’s  fair  light,  with  vengeful  rage  might  rise, 
And  crush  the  shining  mischief,  first  he  lands, 

And  sends  her  to  our  house :  there  now  she  is, 
Weeping  her  sister’s  fate  and  our  afflictions.  65 
Yet  mid  her  grief,  this  comfort  she  enjoys, 
Hermione,  her  virgin  daughter,  whom 
At  Sparta,  when  she  sail’d  for  Troy,  she  left, 

The  father  to  my  mother’s  care  consign’d. 

In  her  delighted,  she  forgets  her  woes.  70 

But  my  quick  eye  glances  to  each  access, 

If  Menelaus  advancing  I  might  see. 

Weak  help  from  others,  if  not  saved  by  him : 

The  house  of  the  unhappy  hath  no  friend. 

ELECTRA,  HELENA. 

Hel.  Daughter  of  Clytenmestra,  and  the  chief  75 
That  drew  from  Atreus  his  illustrious  birth, 

Virgin  of  ripest  years,  how  is  it,  say, 

With  thee,  unhappy,  and  the  wretch  Orestes, 

Who  in  his  mother’s  blood  imbrued  his  hands? 

With  thee  conversing,  I  am  not  polluted,  80 

Charging  the  crime  on  Phoebus.  Yet  I  mourn 


160 


EURIPIDES. 


My  sister’s  fate  ;  for  since  I  sail’d  to  Troy, 

Urged  to  that  madness  by  the  offended  gods, 

These  eyes  have  not  beheld  her;  yet,  her  loss 
Deploring,  at  her  fortunes  drop  the  tear.  85 

Elec.  Why  should  I  tell  thee,  what  thine  eyes 
behold, 

The  race  of  Agamemnon  in  distress'? 

Myself,  attendant  on  the  unhappy  dead 
(But  that  he  breathes  a  little,  he  is  dead), 

Sit  sleepless  :  yet  reproach  I  not  his  ills.  90 

But  thou  art  happy,-  happy  is  thy  husband ; 

To  us  in  our  calamities  ye  come. 

Hel.  How  long  on  this  sick  bed  hath  he  been  laid? 
Elec.  E’er  since  he  shed  her  blood,  who  gave  him 
breath. 

Hel.  Ah  wretch!  Ah  wretched  mother,  thus  to 
perish !  95 

Elec.  Such  our  lost  state,  I  sink  beneath  our  ills. 
H  el.  Do  me  one  grace,  I  beg  thee  by  the  gods. 
Elec.  As  watching  at  my  brother’s  couch  I  may. 
Hel.  Wilt  thou  go  for  me  to  my  sister’s  tomb  ? 
Elec.  My  mother’s  dost  thou  mean  ?  A  nd  where¬ 
fore  go  ?  100 

Hel.  These  locks  and  my  libations  to  present. 
Elec.  What  hinders  but  thou  visit  thy  friend’s 
tomb  ? 

Hel.  And  show  me  to  the  Grecians  1  Shame  for¬ 
bids. 

Elec.  Too  late  discreet ;  when  shameless  from 
thy  house —  104 

Hel.  Just  is  thy  censure,  but  not  friendly  to  me. 
Elec.  And  at  Mycenae  dost  thou  feel  this  shame  1 
Hel.  I  dread  the  fathers,  whose  sons  died  at  Troy. 
Elec.  Against  thee  loud  the  voice  of  Argos  cries. 
Hel.  Oblige  me  then,  and  free  me  from  this  fear. 
Elec.  I  could  not  look  upon  my  mother’s  tomb. 
Hel.  To  send  these  offerings  by  a  slave  were 
shame.  Ill 

Elec.  Hermione,  thy  daughter,  why  not  send  ? 


ORESTES. 


161 


Hel.  A  virgin  mid  the  crowd  !  Indecent  this. 
Elec.  The  favours  of  the  dead,  who  train’d  her 
youth 

With  fond  affection,  thus  she  might  repay.  115 
Hel.  ’Tis  justly  urged  :  I  will  obey  thee,  virgin, 
And  send  my  daughter ;  for  thy  words  are  wise. 
Hermione,  come  hither :  to  the  tomb 
Of  Clytemnestra  these  libations  bear,  119 

And  these  my  locks ;  there  pour  this  honey’d  bowl 
Foaming  with  milk  and  wine  ;  on  the  high  mound, 
Addressing  thus  the  dead  : — “  These  hallow’d  gifts 
Helen,  thy  sister,  offers,  who  through  fear 
Approaches  not  thy  tomb,  dreading  the  crowd 
Of  Argos.”  Bid  her  be  propitious  to  us,  125 

To  me,  to  thee,  my  husband,  and  these  two, 

These  wretched  two,  whom  Phoebus  hath  undone. 
Then  promise  all,  that  to  a  sister’s  shade 
A  sister  should  bestow  :  go,  my  child,  haste, 
Present  these  gifts ;  then  speed  thy  quick  return.  130 
Elec.  0  Nature,  in  the  bad  how  great  an  ill ! 

\alone. 

But  in  the  virtuous  strong  thy  power  to  save. 

See,  she  hath  shorn  the  extremity  of  her  locks, 
Anxious  of  beauty,  the  same  woman  still ! 

May  the  gods  hate  thee,  as  thou  hast  ruin’d  me,  135 
And  him,  and  universal  Greece  ! — Ah  me, 

My  loved  companions  come,  whose  friendly  grief 
Attunes  their  sad  notes  to  my  mournful  strains. 

He  sleeps  now ;  they  will  wake  him,  and  my  eyes 
Will  melt  in  tears,  when  1  behold  him  rave.  140 

ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

Elec.  Dearest  of  women,  softly  set  your  feet, 

Not  to  be  heard  ;  gently  advance  ;  no  noise. 

Kind  is  your  friendship  ;  but  to  awake  him  now 
From  this  sweet  rest  would  be  a  grief  to  me. 

CHORUS. 

Silence,  silence  :  softly  tread : 

Nor  foot  be  heard,  nor  sound,  nor  noise. 

02 


145 


162 


EURIPIDES. 


ELECTRA. 

This  way  far,  far  from  the  bed. 

CHORUS. 

I  obey. 

ELECTRA. 

Hush,  let  thy  voice 
Steal  on  my  ear 

Soft  as  the  whispers  of  the  breathing  reed.  160 

CHORUS. 

Soft  as  the  whispers  of  the  breathing  reed 
My  voice  shall  steel  upon  thy  ear. 

ELECTRA. 

Ay,  thus,  low,  low  ;  softly  come  near ; 

Come  softly,  friends,  and  tell  me  why 

This  visit.  A  long  sleep  hath  closed  his  eye.  165 

CHORUS. 

Doth  hope  then  brighten  on  his  ill  1 

ELECTRA. 

Alas,  what  hope  1  Behold  him  lie ; 

He  breathes,  a  little  breathes,  and  still 
Heaves  at  short  intervals  a  sigh. 

CHORUS. 

Unhappy  state !  160 

ELECTRA. 

Death  were  it,  should  you,  as  thus  loud  you  weep, 
Fright  from  his  eyelids  the  sweet  joys  of  sleep. 

CHORUS. 

Yet  wail  I  his  unhappy  state, 

Abhorred  deeds  of  deadly  hate, 

Rage  of  vindictive,  torturing  woes,  165 

Which  the  relentless  powers  of  heaven  impose 

ELECTRA. 

Unjust,  unjust  the  stern  command, 

The  stern  command  Apollo  gave 
From  Themis’  seat,  his  ruthless  hand 

In  blood,  in  mother’s  blood  to  lave.  170 

CHORUS. 

Ah,  turn  thine  eye ; 

He  stirs,  he  moves,  roll’d  in  the  covering  vest. 


ORESTES. 


163 


ELECTRA. 

Wretch,  thy  rude  clamours  have  disturb’d  his  rest. 

CHORUS. 

And  yet  I  think  sleep  locks  his  eye. 

ELECTRA. 

Wilt  thou  be  gone  1  hence  wilt  thou  fly,  175 
That  Quiet  here  again  may  dwell  1 

CHORUS. 

Again  composed,  he  sleeps  again. 

ELECTRA. 

’Tis  well. 

CHORUS. 

Awful  queen,  whose  gentle  power 
Brings  sweet  oblivion  of  our  woes, 

And  in  the  calm  and  silent  hour  180 

Distils  the  blessings  of  repose  ; — 

Come,  awful  Night; 

Come  from  the  gloom  of  Erebus  profound, 

And  spread  thy  sable-tinctured  wings  around ; 

Speed  to  this  royal  house  thy  flight:  185 

For  pale-eyed  Grief,  and  wild  Affright, 

And  all  the  horrors  of  Despair, 

Here  pour  their  rage,  and  threaten  ruin  here. 

ELECTRA. 

Softly  let  your  warblings  flow  ; 

Farther,  a  farther  distance  keep :  190 

The  far-off  cadence  sweet  and  low 
Charms  his  repose,  and  aids  his  sleep. 

CHORUS. 

Tell  us,  what  end 
Awaits  his  miseries  1 

ELECTRA. 

Death:  that  end  I  fear. 

He  tastes  no  food. 

CHORUS. 

Death  then  indeed,  and  near.  196 

ELECT RA« 

When  Phoebus  gave  the  dire  command 
To  bathe  in  mother’s  blood  his  hand, 


164 


EURIPIDES. 


By  whom  the  father  sunk  in  dust, 

He  doom’d  us  victims. 

CHORUS. 

Dire  these  deeds,  but  just. 

ELECTRA. 

She  slew,  she  died.  Thy  hand  abhorr’d  200 
In  dust  my  bleeding  father  laid  ; 

And  for  thy  blood  in  vengeance  pour’d, 

We  perish,  perish  as  the  dead. 

The  shadowy  train 

Thou  joinest :  but  my  life  shall  waste  away  205 
In  tears  the  night,  in  sighs  and  groans  the  day. 

But,  ah  !  to  whom  shall  1  complain  1 
Nor  child  nor  husband  sooths  my  pain : 

For  ever  drag  I  my  distress, 

Sigh,  mourn,  and  weep  in  lonely  wretchedness.  210 
Cho.  Go  nearer,  royal  virgin  ;  nearer  view  him, 
That  under  this  soft  sleep  the  sleep  of  death 
Deceive  thee  not :  I  like  not  this  still  rest. 

ORESTES,  ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

Ores.  O  gentle  Sleep,  whose  lenient  power  thus 
sooths 

Disease  and  pain,  how  sweet  thy  visit  to  me,  215 
Who  wanted  thy  soft  aid  !  Blessing  divine, 

That  to  the  wretched  givest  wish’d  repose, 

Steeping  their  senses  in  forgetfulness ! — 

W'here  have  I  been  ?  Where  am  1 1  How  brought 
hither  1 

My  late  distraction  blots  remembrance  out.  220 
Ei  .ec.  My  most  dear  brother,  O,  what  heartfelt 
joy, 

To  see  thee  lie  composed  in  gentle  sleep ! 

Wilt  thou  I  touch  thee  1  Shall  I  raise  thee  up  1 
Ores.  Assist  me  then,  assist  me;  from  my  mouth 
Wipe  off  this  clotted  foam  ;  wipe  my  moist  eyes. 

Elec.  Delightful  office,  for  a  sister’s  hand  225 
To  minister  relief  to  a  sick  brother! 

Ores.  Lie  by  my  side,  and  from  my  face  remove 


ORESTES.  165 

These  squalid  locks ;  they  blind  my  darken’d 
eyes. 

Elec.  How  tangled  are  the  ringlets  of  thy  hair, 

Wild  and  disorder’d  through  this  long  neglect !  231 
Ores.  Pray,  lay  me  down  again:  when  this  ill 
phrensy 

Leaves  me,  I  am  very  feeble,  very  faint. 

Elec.  There,  there :  the  bed  is  grateful  to  the 
sick, 

A  mournful,  but  a  necessary  tenure.  235 

Ores.  Raise  me  again ;  more  upright ;  bend  me 
forward. 

Cho.  The  sick  are  wayward  through  their  rest¬ 
lessness. 

Elec.  Or  wilt  thou  try  with  slow  steps  on  the 
ground 

To  fix  thy  feet?  Variety  is  sweet.  239 

Ores.  Most  willingly  ;  it  hath  the  show  of  health: 

The  seeming  hath  some  good,  though  void  of  truth. 
Elec.  Now,  my  loved  brother,  hear  me,  while  the 
Furies 

Permit  thy  sense  thus  clear  and  undisturb’d. 

Ores.  Hast  thou  aught  new?  If  good,  I  thank 
thee  for  it  ; 

If  ill,  I  have  enough  of  ill  already.  245 

Elec.  Thy  father’s  brother,  Menelaus,  arrives  ; 

His  fleet  rides  anchor’d  in  the  Nauplian  bay. 

Ores.  Comes  he  then  ?  Light  on  our  afflictions 
dawns : 

Much  to  my  father’s  kindness  doth  he  owe. 

Elec.  He  comes;  and,  to  confirm  what  now  I  say, 

Brings  Helena  from  Ilium’s  ruin’d  walls.  251 

Ores.  More  to  be  envied,  were  he  saved  alone  : 

Bringing  his  wife,  he  brings  a  mighty  ill. 

Elec.  The  female  line  of  Tyndarus  was  born 

To  deep  disgrace,  and  infamous  through  Greece.  255 
Ores.  Be  thou  unlike  them  then:  ’tis  in  thy 
power; 

And  further  than  in  words  thy  virtue  prove. 


166 


EURIPIDES. 


Elec.  Alas,  my  brother,  wildly  rolls  thine  eye : 
So  quickly  changed  !  the  frantic  fit  returns. 

Ores.  Ah  mother!  Do  not  set  thy  Furies  on  me. 
See,  how  their  fiery  eyeballs  glare  in  blood,  261 
And  wreathing  snakes  hiss  in  their  horrid  hair  ! 
There,  there  they  stand,  ready  to  leap  upon  me  ! 
Elec.  Rest  thee,  poor  brother,  rest  thee  on  thy 
bed : 

Thou  seest  them  not :  ’tis  fancy’s  coinage  all.  265 
Ores.  O  Phoebus,  they  will  kill  me,  these  dire 
forms, 

These  Gorgon-visaged  ministers  of  hell ! 

Elec.  Thus  will  I  hold  thee,  round  thee  throw 
mine  arms, 

And  check  the  unhappy  force  of  thy  wild  starts. 

Ores.  Off,  let  me  go:  I  know  thee,  who  thou  art. 
One  of  the  Furies;  and  thou  grapplest  with  me,  271 
To  whirl  me  into  Tartarus.  Avaunt ! 

Elec.  What  shall  1  do  ?  Ah  me  !  where  shall  I 
seek 

Assistance,  since  the  unfriendty  god  frowns  on  us? 
Ores.  Bring  me  the  bow  of  horn  which  Phoebus 
gave  me,  275 

And  with  it  bade  me  drive  these  fiends  away, 

Should  they  affright  me  with  their  maddening  ter¬ 
rors. 

Elec.  Shall  any  god  by  mortal  hands  be  wounded  ? 
Ores.  Should  she  not  instant  vanish  from  my 
sight.  279 

Heard  you  the  clang  ?  Saw  you  the  winged  shaft, 
Bound  from  the  distant-wounding  bow  ?  Ha,  ha  ! 
Here  yet !  On  swift  wings  mount  the  ethereal  air, 
And  there  impeach  the  oracle  of  Phoebus. — 
Whence  this  disquiet  ?  Why  thus  pants  my  breath? 
Ah,  whither  am  I  wander’d  from  my  bed  ?  285 

For  from  the  storm  the  high-swoln  waves  subside. 
Why  dost  thou  weep,  my  sister?  Why  decline 
Thy  drooping  head,  and  hide  it  in  thy  vest? 

I  blush  to  give  thee  part  in  my  disease, 


ORESTES.  167 

And  wound  with  grief  thy  virgin  tenderness.  290 
Let  not  my  ills  be  thus  infectious  to  thee  : 

Thou  barely  didst  assent ;  I  did  the  deed ; 

I  shed  her  blood.  But  Phoebus  I  must  blame, 

Who  urged  me  to  this  most  unholy  act ; 

Then,  save  with  soothing  words,  assists  me  not.  295 
Had  these  eyes  seen  my  father,  had  I  ask’d  him 
In  duty  if  I  ought  to  slay  my  mother, 

I  think  he  would  have  pray’d  me  not  to  plunge 
My  murdering  sword  in  her  that  gave  me  birth  ; 
Since  he  could  not  revisit  heaven’s  sweet  light,  300 
And  I  must  suffer  all  these  miseries. 

But  now  unveil  thy  face  and  dry  thy  tears, 

My  sister,  though  afflictions  press  us  sore  ; 

And  when  thou  seest  me  in  these  fitful  moods, 
Sooth  my  disorder’d  sense,  and  let  thy  voice  305 
Speak  peace  to  my  distraction  t  when  the  sigh 
Swells  in  thy  bosom,  ’tis  a  brother’s  part 
With  tender  sympathy  to  calm  thy  griefs: 

These  are  the  pleasing  offices  of  friends* 

But  to  thy  chamber  go,  afflicted  maid,  310 

There  seek  repose,  close  thy  long  sleepless  eyes, 
With  food  refresh  thee  and  ihe  enlivening  bath. 
Shouldst  thou  forsake  me,  or  with  too  close  tend* 
ance 

Impair  thy  delicate  and  tender  health, 

Then  were  I  lost  indeed  ;  for  thou  alone,  315 

Abandon’d  as  I  am,  art  all  my  comfort. 

Elec.  Should  I  forsake  thee  !  No  ;  my  choice  is 
fix’d ; 

And  I  will  die  with  thee,  or  with  thee  live, 
Indifferent  for  myself;  for  shouldst  thou  die, 

What  refuge  shall  a  lonely  virgin  find,  320 

Her  brother  lost,  her  father  lost,  her  friends 
All  melted  from  her?  Yet,  if  such  thy  wish, 

I  ought  to  obey :  recline  thee  on  thy  couch, 

Nor  let  these  visionary  terrors  fright  thee  ; 

There  rest :  though  all  be  fancy’s  coinage  wild,  325 
Yet  Nature  sinks  beneath  the  violent  toil. 


168 


EURIPIDES. 


CHORUS. 

STROPHE. 

Awful  powers,  whose  rapid  flight 
Bears  you  from  the  realms  of  night 
To  hearts  that  groan,  and  eyes  that  weep, 
Where  you  joyless  orgies  keep  ;  330 

Ye  gloomy  powers,  that  shake  the  affrighted  air ; 
And,  arm’d  with  your  tremendous  rod, 
Dealing  terror,  wo,  despair, 

Punish  murder,  punish  blood  ; — 

For  Agamemnon’s  race  this  strain,  335 

This  supplicating  strain,  1  pour : 

No  more  afflict  his  soul  with  pain, 

Nor  torture  him  with  madness  more  : 

Breathe  oblivion  o’er  his  woes, 

Leave  him,  leave  him  to  repose.  340 

Unhappy  youth,  what  toils  are  thine, 

Since  Phoebus  from  his  central  shrine 
Bade  thee  unsheath  the  avenging  sword, 

And  Fate  confirm’d  the  irrevocable  word! 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Hear  us,  king  of  gods,  0,  hear :  345 

Where  is  soft-eyed  Pity,  where  1 
Whence,  to  plunge  thee  thus  in  woes, 

Discord  stain’d  with  gore  arose  1 
What  vengeful  demon  thus  with  footstep  dread 

Trampling  the  blood-polluted  ground,  350 
Sternly  cruel  joys  to  spread 
Horror,  rage,  and  madness  round  1 
Wo,  wo  is  me !  in  man’s  frail  state 
Nor  height  nor  greatness  firm  abides  : 

On  the  calm  sea,  secure  of  fate,  355 

Her  sails  all  spread,  the  vessel  rides  : 

Now  the  impetuous  whirlwinds  sweep, 

Roars  the  storm,  and  swells  the  deep, 

Till,  with  the  furious  tempest  toss’d, 

She  sinks  in  surging  billows  lost.  360 

Yet  firm  their  fate  will  I  embrace, 

And  still  revere  this  heaven-descended  race. 


ORESTES. 


169 


Cho.  But  see,  the  royal  Menelaus  advances : 

That  awe-commanding  and  majestic  port 
Denotes  him  of  the  race  of  Tantalus. —  365 

Illustrious  leader  of  a  thousand  ships, 

That  bore  to  Asia’s  strand  thy  martial  host, 

All  hail  !  Good  Fortune  guides  thee,  and  the  gods, 
Favouring  thy  vows,  have  bless’d  thy  conquering 
arms. 

MENELAUS,  ORESTES,  CHORUS. 

Men.  From  Troy  return’d,  with  pleasure  I  behold 
This  royal  house,  with  pleasure  mix’d  with  grief; 
For  never  saw  I  house  encompass’d  round  372 
With  such  afflictions.  Agamemnon’s  fate, 

How  by  his  wife  he  perish’d,  I  long  since 
At  Malea  learn’d,  when,  rising  from  the  waves,  375 
Confess’d  to  open  view,  the  sailors’  prophet, 
Unerring  Glaucus,  the  dire  bath  disclosed, 

The  wife,  and  each  sad  circumstance  of  blood  ; 

A  tale  that  harrow’d  up  my  soul  with  grief, 

And  wrung  the  tear  from  the  stern  veteran’s  eye. 
But  to  the  Nauplian  coast  arrived,  my  wife  381 
First  landed,  when  I  hope  with  joy  to  fold 
Orestes  and  his  mother  in  my  arms, 

As  happy  now,  a  wave-wash’d  fisherman 

Told  me  that  Clytemnestra  is  no  more,  385 

Slain  by  the  unholy  sword.  But,  virgins,  say, 

Where  is  Orestes,  who  these  horrid  ills 

Hath  dared  1  for  when  the  war  call’d  me  to  Troy, 

An  infant  in  his  mother’s  arms  I  left  him, 

That  now,  if  seen,  his  form  would  be  unknown.  390 
Ores.  He  whom  thou  seek’st  ami:  I  am  Orestes. 
To  thee,  0  king,  will  I  unfold  my  woes, 

And  willingly:  but  first  I  grasp  thy  knees, 

And  pour  my  plain,  unornamented  prayer  : 

Save  me  ;  for  thou  mid  my  distress  art  come.  395 
Men.  Ye  powers  of  heaven,  what  do  mine  eyes 
behold  1 

One  from  the  regions  of  the  dead  return’d  ? 

Eurip.  Yol.  III. — P 


170 


EURIPIDES. 


Ores.  Well  hast  thou  said:  I  view  the  light  in¬ 
deed, 

But  do  not  live  ;  such  are  my  miseries. 

Men.  How  wild,  how  horrid  hangs  thy  matted 
hair !  400 

Ores.  The  real,  not  the  apparent,  racks  my  soul. 

Men.  Thy  shrunk  and  hollow  eye  glares  dread¬ 
fully. 

Ores.  My  whole  frame  wastes ;  naught,  save  mv 
name,  is  left. 

Men.  Reason  revolts  at  this  thy  squalid  form. 

Ores.  Alas,  I  am  the  murderer  of  my  mother. 

Men.  I  have  heard  it :  spare  mine  ear  the  tale  of 
wo.  406 

Ores.  I  will :  yet  Heaven  is  rich  in  woes  to  me. 

Men.  What  are  thy  sufferings  !  What  disease 
consumes  thee  1 

Ores.  Conscience ;  the  conscious  guilt  of  horrid 
deeds. 

Men.  How  say’st  thou!  Wisdom  suffers  when 
obscure.  410 

Ores.  A  pining  melancholy  most  consumes  me. 

Men.  Dreadful  its  power,  but  not  immedicable. 

Ores.  And  phrensy,  fierce  to  avenge  my  mother’s 
blood. 

Men.  When  did  its  rage  first  seize  thee !  What 
the  day  !  414 

Ores.  The  day  I  raised  my  hapless  mother’s  tomb. 

Men.  What,  in  the  house,  or  sitting  at  the  pyre! 

Ores.  By  night,  as  from  rude  hands  1  guard  her 
bones. 

Men.  Was  any  present,  to  support  thy  weakness! 

Ores.  My  Pylades,  who  aided  in  her  death. 

Men.  What  phantoms  frighten  thy  disordered 
sense !  420 

Ores.  Three  virgin  forms  I  see  gloomy  as  night. 

Men.  Whom  thy  words  mark  I  know,  but  will  not 
name. 

Ores.  Awful  they  are:  forbear  irreverent  words. 


ORESTES.  171 

Men.  And  do  these  haunt  thee  for  thy  mother’s 
blood  ? 

Ores.  Ah  wretched  me,  how  dreadful  their  pur¬ 
suit!  425 

Men.  Thus  dreadful  sufferings  dreadful  deeds  at¬ 
tend. 

Ores.  Yet  have  we  where  to  charge  our  miseries. 

Men.  Name  not  thy  father’s  death;  that  were  un¬ 
wise. 

Ores.  Phoebus,  by  whose  command  I  slew  my 
mother. 

Men.  Of  right  and  justice  ignorant,  I  ween.  430 

Ores.  We  to  the  gods  submit,  whate’er  they  are. 

Men.  And  doth  not  Phoebus  in  thine  ills  protect 
thee  ? 

Ores.  Not  yet:  delays  attend  the  powers  divine. 

Men.  How  long  then  since  thy  mother  breathed 
her  last  1 

Ores.  This  the  sixth  day ;  the  funeral  pile  yet 
warm.  435 

Men.  How  soon  thy  mother’s  blood  these  powers 
avenge ! 

Ores.  Unwisely  said:  though  true,  unkind  to 
friends. 

Men.  What  then  avails  to  have  avenged  thy  father  ? 

Ores.  Naught  yet.  Delay  is  as  a  deed  not  done. 

Men.  In  what  light  doth  the  city  view  thy  deeds  1 

Ores.  They  hate  us,  so  that  none  hold  conference 
with  us.  441 

Men.  Hast  thou  yet  purified  thy  hands  from  blood? 

Ores.  Where’er  I  go,  each  house  is  barr’d  against 
me. 

Men.  What  citizens  thus  drive  thee  from  the 
land  ? 

Ores.  GEax,  through  rancorous  malice  to  my 
father.  445 

Men.  On  the  avenging  Palamedes’  death 

445  (Eax  was  the  son  of  Nauplius,  and  brother  of  Palame- 


172 


EURIPIDES. 


Ores.  I  wrought  it  not.  But  three  pursue  my 
ruin. 

Men.  The  others  who  ?  Some  of  ^Egisthus’ 
friends  1 

Ores.  They  hurt  me  most,  whose  power  now 
sways  the  stata. 

Men.  Commit  they  not  the  sceptre  to  thy  hands? 
Ores.  They,  who  no  longer  suffer  us  to  live?  451 
Men.  How  acting?  What  thou  art  assured  of, 
speak. 

Ores.  Sentence  against  us  will  this  day  be  given. 
Men.  Of  exile  ?  or  to  die  ?  or  not  to  die  ? 

Ores.  To  die,  with  stones  crush’d  by  our  citizens. 
Men.  Why  fliest  thou  not  far  from  this  country’s 

bounds  ?  456 

Ores.  On  every  side  we  are  enclosed  with  arms. 
Men.  By  private  foes,  or  by  the  Argive  state  ? 
Ores.  By  the  whole  state :  in  brief,  that  I  may 
die. 

Men.  Wretch,  thou  hast  reach’d  misfortune’s  dire 
extreme.  460 

Ores.  In  thee  is  all  my  hope,  in  thee  my  refuge  : 
Happy  to  us  afflicted  art  thou  come. 

Share  with  thy  friends  that  happiness  j  alone 
Enjoy  not  all  the  good  thou  hast  received ; 

In  our  afflictions  bear  a  friendly  part.  465 

Think  how  my  father  loved  thee,  and  requite 
That  love  to  us  :  it  will  become  thee  well. 

They  have  the  name  of  friends,  but  not  the  worth, 
Who  are  not  friends  in  our  calamities. 

Cho.  But  see,  the  Spartan  Tyndarus  this  way  470 
Directs  his  aged  feet,  in  sable  weeds, 

His  locks,  in  grief  for  his  dead  daughter,  shorn. 
Ores.  Ah  me  !  He  comes  indeed,  whose  presence 
most 

Fills  me  with  shame  for  what  I  have  misdone. 

I  was  his  darling  once  ;  my  infant  age  475 

With  tenderness  he  nursed,  caress’d  me,  bore 
The  child  of  Agamemnon  in  his  arms, 


ORESTES. 


173 


And  loved  me  like  the  twin-born  sons  of  Jove  ; 

Nor  Leda  less.  And  is  it  thus,  my  soul, 

Thus,  0  my  bleeding  heart,  that  I  requite  480 

Their  ill-paid  love  1  Ah,  cover  me,  ye  shades, 

Ye  clouds,  with  friendly  darkness  wrap  me  round, 
And  hide  me  from  the  terrors  of  his  eye  ! 

TYNDARUS,  MENELAUS,  ORESTES,  CHORUS. 

Tyn.  Where  shall  I  see  my  daughter’s  husband, 
where 

Find  Menelaus  1  At  Clytemnestra’s  tomb  485 
Libations  as  I  pour’d,  I  heard  that  he, 

With  Helen,  after  all  these  tedious  years, 

Is  safely  in  the  Nauplian  port  arrived. 

O,  lead  me  ;  for  I  long  to  grasp  his  hand, 

To  feast  mine  eyes  after  this  length  of  years,  490 
And  welcome  to  our  shores  the  man  I  love. 

Men.  Hail  reverend  sharer  of  the  bed  with  Jove! 
Tyn.  With  joy  thy  greeting  I  return,  my  son. 

Ah,  not  to  know  the  future,  what  an  ill ! 

Hateful  to  me  this  murderous  dragon  here  495 

Glares  pestilential  lightnings  from  his  eyes. 

Wilt  thou  hold  conference  with  the  unhallow’d 
wretch  1 

Men.  And  wherefore  not?  His  father  was  my 
friend. 

Tyn.  From  such  a  father  sprung  a  son  so  vile  1 
Men.  He  did  ;  to  be  respected,  though  unhappy. 
Tyn.  Barbarous  thy  manners,  ’mong  barbarians 
learn’d.  501 

Men.  Nay,  Greece  enjoins  respect  to  kindred 
blood. 

Tyn.  And  not  to  wish  to  be  above  the  laws. 

Men.  Necessity  is  to  the  wise  a  law. 

Tyn.  Enjoy  it  thou ;  I  will  have  none  of  it.  505 
Men.  Wisdom  approves  not  anger  in  thy  years. 
Tyn.  What !  Is  the  contest  then  of  wisdom  with 
him  1 

If  virtuous  and  dishonourable  deeds 

P  2 


174 


EURIPIDES. 


Are  plain  to  all,  who  more  unwise  than  he  ? 

Deaf  to  the  call  of  justice,  he  infringed  510 

The  firm  authority  of  the  public  laws  : 

For  when  beneath  my  daughter’s  murdering  axe 
The  imperial  Agamemnon  bow’d  his  head 
(A  horrid  deed,  which  never  shall  I  praise), 

He  ought  to  have  call’d  the  laws,  the  righteous  laws. 
To  avenge  the  blood,  and  by  appeal  to  them  516 
Have  driven  his  mother  from  this  royal  house : 
Thus  mid  his  ills  calm  reason  had  borne  rule, 

Justice  had  held  its  course,  and  he  been  righteous. 
But  the  same  Fury,  which  had  seized  his  mother,  520 
Had  now  seized  him ;  and  with  ungovern’d  rage, 
Justly  abhorrent  of  her  impious  deed, 

He  did  a  deed  more  impious,  slew  his  mother. 

For,  let  me  ask  thee,  should  the  faithless  wife 
Bathe  in  the  husband’s  blood  her  murderous  hands. 
And  should  the  avenging  son  the  mother  slay,  526 
His  son  again  retaliate  blood  for  blood, 

What  bound  shall  the  progressive  mischief  know  ? 
The  wisdom  of  our  ancestors  ordain’d 
That  he,  who  had  the  guilt  of  blood  upon  him,  530 
Be  not  allow’d  the  sight,  the  walks  of  men, 

By  banishment  atoning,  not  by  death  : 

Else  one  must  always  be  to  death  devote, 

Who  hath  the  last  pollution  on  his  hands. 

But  these  vile  women  doth  my  soul  abhor ;  535 

And  her,  my  daughter,  first,  who  slew  her  lord: 

Thy  Helen  too  I  never  will  commend, 

Never  hold  converse  with  her ;  no,  nor  thee 
Can  I  approve,  who  for  a  worthless  woman 
In  toilsome  march  hast  trod  the  fields  of  Troy.  540 
Yet  to  my  power  will  I  support  the  laws, 

And  check  this  savage,  blood-polluted  rage, 

Which  spreads  wild  havoc  o’er  the  unpeopled  land. 
Hadst  thou  the  feelings  of  humanity, 

Wretch,  when  thy  mother  cried  to  thee  for  mercy, 
And  bared  her  breast  to  thy  relentless  view  ?  546 


ORESTES. 


175 


I  saw  it  not,  that  scene  of  misery, 

Yet  the  soft  tear  melts  from  my  aged  eye. 

One  thing  confirms  my  words ;  the  gods  abhor, 

With  madness  scourge  thee,  and  with  terrors  haunt, 
Vindictive  of  thy  guilt.  What  need  I  hear  551 
From  other  witness  what  mine  eyes  behold  1 
Now,  Menelaus,  I  warn  thee,  mark  me  well : 

Do  not,  protecting  him,  oppose  the  gods, 

But  leave  him  to  the  vengeance  of  the  state,  555 
Or  never  set  thy  foot  on  Sparta’s  shore. 

My  daughter  by  her  death  hath  rightly  paid 
The  debt  to  justice  ;  but  from  him  that  death 
Was  most  unjust.  O,  happy  had  1  been, 

Had  I  no  daughters  :  there  1  am  a  wretch  !  560 

Cho.  Happy  his  state,  who,  in  his  children  bless’d, 
Hath  not  there  felt  affliction’s  deepest  wound. 

Ores.  In  reverence  to  thy  age  I  dread  to  speak 
What  I  well  know  must  pierce  thy  heart  with  grief. 
I  am  unholy  in  my  mother’s  death,  565 

But  holy,  as  my  father  I  avenged. 

The  veneration  due  to  those  gray  hairs 
Strikes  me  with  awe  ;  else  I  could  urge  my  plea 
Freely  and  boldly:  but  thy  years  dismay  me. 

What  could  Idol  Let  fact  be  weigh’d  with  fact. 

My  father  was  the  author  of  my  being;  571 

Thy  daughter  brought  me  forth  :  he  gave  me  life, 
Which  she  but  foster’d :  to  the  higher  cause 
A  higher  reverence  then  I  deem’d  was  due. 

Thy  daughter  (for  I  dare  not  call  her  mother)  575 
Forsook  her  royal  bed  for  a  rank  sty 
Of  secret  and  adulterous  lust :  on  me 
The  word  reflects  disgrace,  yet  I  must  speak  it. 
^Egisthus  was  this  private  paramour: 

Him  first  I  slew,  then  sacrificed  my  mother  ;  580 

An  impious  deed ;  but  I  avenged  my  father. 

Thou  threaten’st  the  just  vengeance  of  the  state: 
Hear  me  :  deserve  I  not  'he  thanks  of  Greece  1 
Should  wives  with  ruffi  J  >oldness  kill  their  hus* 
bands, 


176 


EURIPIDES. 


Then  fly  for  refuge  to  their  sons,  and  think,  585 
Baring  their  breast  to  captivate  their  pity, 

These  deeds  would  pass  for  nothing,  as  the  mood, 
For  something  or  for  nothing,  shall  incline  them. 
This  complot  have  I  broke,  by  doing  what 
Thy  pompous  language  styles  atrocious  deeds.  590 
My  soul  abhorr’d  my  mother,  and  I  slew  her, 

Who,  when  her  lord  was  absent,  and  in  arms 
To  glorious  conquest  led  the  sons  of  Greece, 
Betray’d  him,  with  pollution  stain’d  his  bed, 

And,  conscious  of  her  guilt,  sought  not  to  atone  it, 
But,  to  escape  his  righteous  vengeance,  pour’d  596 
Destruction  on  his  head,  and  kill’d  my  father. 

Now  by  the  gods,  though  in  a  charge  of  blood 
Ill  it  becomes  me  to  invoke  the  gods, 

Had  I  in  silence  tamely  borne  her  deeds,  600 

Would  not  the  murder’d,  justly  hating  me, 

Have  rous’d  the  Furies  to  torment  my  soul  1 
Or  hath  she  only  her  assisting  fiends, 

And  he  no  favouring  power  to  avenge  his  wrongs  ? 
Thou,  when  to  that  bad  daughter  thou  gavest  birth, 
Didst  give  me  ruin  ;  for  through  her  bold  crime  606 
I  lost  my  father,  and  my  mother  slew. 

Seest  thou  Ulysses’  wife  1  Telemachus 
Shed  not  her  blood;  for  she,  unstain’d  with  vice, 
Guards  her  chaste  bed  with  spotless  sanctity.  610 
Seest  thou  Apollo,  who  to  mortal  ears 
Sounds  from  his  central  cave  the  voice  of  truth  1 
Him  we  obey  in  all  that  he  commands  : 

Obeying  his  commands,  I  slew  my  mother. 

Drag  him  then  to  your  bar,  put  him  to  death ;  615 

The  guilt  is  his,  not  mine.  What  should  I  do  ? 

The  guilt  on  him  transferr’d,  is  not  the  god 
Sufficient  to  absolve  me  ?  Where  shall  man 
Find  refuge,  if  the  god,  at  whose  command 
I  did  it,  will  not  now  save  me  from  death  1  620 

Then  say  not  that  these  deeds  were  done  not  well, 
But  to  the  doers  most  unhappily. 

If  well  accorded,  the  connubial  state 


ORESTES. 


177 


From  all  its  strings  speaks  perfect  harmony  ; 

If  ill,  at  home,  abroad,  the  harsh  notes  jar,  625 
And  with  rude  discord  wound  the  ear  of  Peace. 

Cho.  That  Peace  to  wound  always  our  sex  was 
born, 

Augmenting  by  our  ills  the  ills  of  men. 

Tyn.  What !  dost  thou  brave  me,  and  in  proud 
defiance 

So  answer,  as  to  pierce  my  heart  with  grief  1  630 

This  pride  will  fire  me  more  to  urge  thy  death. 

One  honest  task  I’ll  add  to  that  which  drew  me 
Hither  ;  to  grace  my  murder’d  daughter’s  tomb, 

This  instant  to  the  assembled  Argives  go, 

And  rouse  the  willing  state,  an  easy  task,  635 
To  crush  thee  and  thy  sister :  she  deserves, 

Ev’n  more  than  thou,  to  die,  whose  accursed  tongue 
Added  new  fierceness  to  thy  fierce  intents; 

Thine  ears  assailing  with  some  bitter  speech, 

That  Agamemnon’s  shade  haunted  her  dreams ;  640 
That  the  tremendous  powers  below  abhorr’d 
The  adulterous  bed,  foul  ev’n  to  man’s  gross  sense, 
Till  all  this  house  blazed  in  the  flame  she  kindled. 

I  tell  thee,  Menelaus,  and  I  will  do  it, 

If  thou  regard  my  hate  or  my  alliance,  645 

Protect  him  not,  by  the  just  gods  I  charge  thee, 

But  leave  him  to  the  rigour  of  the  laws, 

Or  never  dare  to  tread  on  Spartan  ground. 

Hear  me,  and  mark  me  ;  league  not  with  the  vile, 
Nor  scorn  thy  friends,  whose  breasts  with  virtue 
glow.  650 

Here,  my  attendants,  lead  me  from  this  house. 

ORESTES,  MENELA.US,  CHORUS. 

Ores.  Why  get  thee  gone,  that  I  may  plead  to 
him, 

Uninterrupted  by  thy  wayward  age. 

Why  dost  thou  bend  that  way,  then  backward 
turn 

Thoughtful  thy  step,  absorb’d  in  anxious  care  1  655 


178 


EURIPIDES. 


Men.  Forbear,  and  leave  me  to  my  thoughts,  per¬ 
plex’d 

And  unresolved  which  cause  I  should  espouse. 

Ores.  Suspend  awhile  thy  judgment ;  hear  me 
first, 

First  hear  my  plea;  weigh  it,  and  then  resolve. 

Men.  Speak;  thou  hast  reason:  wisdom  some¬ 
times  loves,  660 

To  dwell  with  silence,  sometimes  woos  the  ear. 
Ores.  Then  let  me  urge  my  plea :  and,  O  !  forgive 
me 

If  I  seem  tedious :  grief  is  fond  of  words. 

Give  me  not  aught  of  thine;  only  return 
What  from  my  father’s  grace  thou  hast  received. 

I  ask  not  thy  rich  treasures,  yet  a  treasure  666 
Richer  than  all  thy  stores;  1  ask  my  life. 

Is  this  unjust]  Let  me  from  thee  receive 
Something  unjust :  such  Agamemnon  was, 

Who  led  to  Troy  the  united  arms  of  Greece  :  670 

Yet  was  the  wrong  not  his  ;  but  to  avenge 
Thy  wife’s  incontinent  and  foul  offence. 

For  all  his  dangers,  all  his  toils  in  war, 

Borne  as  becomes  a  friend,  in  a  friend’s  cause, 

Give  me  one  day  for  his  ten  years  in  arms.  675 
To  vindicate  thy  honour,  one  short  day 
Stand  firm,  my  friend,  the  guardian  of  my  life. 

For  thee  Aulis  my  poor  sister  died; 

I  am  content,  nor  ask  Hermione 
A  sacrifice  for  me:  in  my  distress  680 

Protect  me,  pity  me  :  I  ask  no  more ; 

To  my  unhappy  father  grant  my  life, 

And  save  my  sister,  save  her  virgin  years. 

The  house  of  Agamemnon  sinks  with  me. 

Impossible  thou’lt  say.  When  danger  threats,  685 
The  friend  comes  forth  resolved,  and  shields  his 
friend. 

In  fortune’s  golden  smiles  what  need  of  friends? 

Her  favouring  power  wants  no  auxiliary. 

Greece  sees  thou  lovest  thy  wife ;  I  speak  not  this 


ORESTES. 


179 

In  flattery,  to  wind  into  thy  bosom  ;  690 

But  I  conjure  thee  by  that  love— Ah  me! 

How  am  I  fallen  !  Not  for  myself  alone 
I  pour  my  prayer,  but  for  my  father’s  house. 

Now  by  the  kindred  blood,  whose  royal  tide 
Rolls  in  thy  veins  ;  by  each  endearing  tie  695 

Of  fond  relation  and  fraternal  love, 

Think  that  my  murder’d  father’s  injured  shade 
Burst  from  the  realms  of  death,  and  hovers  o’er 
thee ; 

And  think,  0,  think  the  words  I  speak  are  his. 

’Tis  for  my  life  I  plead ;  life’s  dear  to  all,  700 

With  sighs,  with  groans,  with  tears:  save  me,  O, 
save  me ! 

Cho.  Low  at  thy  knees  a  woman  joins  her  prayer : 
0,  save  them,  save  the  unhappy,  for  thou  canst ! 

Men.  I  hold  thee  dear,  Orestes,  and  am  willing 
To  give  my  friendly  aid  in  thy  distress.  705 

The  affinity  of  blood  calls  loudly  on  us 
To  share  its  toils,  if  the  gods  grant  the  power, 

Nor  shrink  appall’d  at  danger  or  at  death  ; 

And  much  I  wish  the  gods  would  grant  this  power  : 
But  with  a  thousand  toils  oppress’d  I  come,  710 
And  lift  a  single  spear,  whose  glittering  point 
No  squadrons  follow  wedged  in  firm  array  : 

Few  my  remaining  friends,  and  small  my  force 
With  Argos  then  should  we  engage  in  arms, 

We  could  not  conquer;  but  with  gentle  words  715 
Perchance  we  may :  this  way  Hope  smiles  on  us. 
Who  would  with  feeble  forces  aim  at  deeds 
Of  perilous  proof1?  ’Twere  folly  to  attempt  it. 
When,  roused  to  rage,  the  maddening  populace 
storms, 

Their  fury,  like  a  rolling  flame,  bursts  forth  720 
Unquenchable;  but  give  its  violence  way, 

Jt  spends  itself ;  and,  as  its  force  abates, 

Learns  to  obey,  and  yields  it  to  your  will 

Their  passions  varying  thus,  now  rough  with  rage, 

Now  melting  with  soft  pity,  Wisdom  marks  725 


180 


EURIPIDES, 


The  change,  and  turns  it  to  a  rich  account. 

Thus  Tyndarus  I  will  move,  and  the  Argive  state 
To  use  their  supreme  power  with  gentleness. 

The  gallant  bark,  that  too  much  swells  her  sails, 

Oft  is  o’erset ;  but  let  her  pride  be  lower’d,  730 
She  rides  secure,  and  glories  in  the  gale. 

Impetuous  rage  is  hateful  to  the  gods, 

Hateful  to  men :  with  cool,  unpassioned  reason 
(Discretion  gides  my  words)  I  must  preserve  thee, 
And  not,  as  thou  perchance  mayst  deem,  by  force. 
Against  the  stronger  what  can  force  avail  I  736 
Its  trophies  can  my  single  spear  erect 
Victorious  o’er  the  ills  that  now  assault  thee  ? 

To  be  a  suitor  hath  not  been  my  use 

At  Argos,  but  Necessity  will  teach  us,  740 

If  wise,  submission  to  the  power  of  Fortune. 

ORESTES,  CHORUS. 

Ores.  Thou  doughty  champion  of  thy  wife,  good 
else 

For  naught,  in  thy  friend’s  cause  a  coward  base, 
Thus  dost  thou  slight  me,  turn  thee  thus  away  1 
Are  Agamemnon’s  favours  thus  repaid  !  745 

Thou  hadst  no  friend,  my  father,  in  thy  ills. 

Ah  me  !  I  am  betray’d ;  ev’n  Hope  forsakes  me, 

And  leaves  me  unprotected  to  my  fate, 

Who  on  his  sheltering  power  alone  relied. 

But  from  his  Phocians,  see,  with  hasty  step  750 
Here  comes  a  friend  indeed,  my  Pylades, 

A  pleasing  sight ;  for  in  distress,  a  friend 
Comes  like  a  calm  to  the  toss’d  mariner. 

PYLADES,  ORESTES,  CHORUS. 

Pyl.  With  swift  pace  speed  I  through  the  city, 
hearing 

Their  counsels,  and  discerning  their  intents  755 
To  adjudge  thee  and  thy  sister  to  quick  death. 

But  what !  How  fares  my  friend  1  What  thy  de¬ 
sign! 


ORESTES. 


181 


Thou  partner  of  my  soul,  companion  dear, 

Friend,  kinsman,  brother:  thou  art  all  to  me 

Ores.  To  speak  my  woes  in  brief  then,  we  are 
lost.  760 

Pyl.  Then  in  thy  ruin  is  thy  friend  involved. 
Ores.  The  Spartan  views  us  with  malignant  eye. 
Pyl.  A  vile  wife  to  a  husband  match’d  as  vile. 
Ores.  To  me  no  joy  doth  his  arrival  bring. 

Pyl.  Is  he  indeed  then  at  this  land  arrived  1  765 

Ores.  Late,  but  soon  found  unfaithful  to  his  friends. 
Pyl.  And  brought  he  his  disloyal  wife  with  him  1 
Ores.  In  truth  he  brought  not  her,  but  she  brought 
him. 

Pyl.  Where  is  this  pest,  that  hath  unpeopled 
Greece  1 

Ores.  Here  in  my  house,  if  I  may  call  it  mine. 
Pyl.  What  to  thy  father’s  brother  didst  thou 
say  1  771 

Ores.  Not  to  see  me  and  my  poor  sister  slain. 
Pyl.  Now  by  the  gods,  what  answer  did  he  give? 
Ores.  Timid  and  cautious,  like  a  faithless  friend. 
Pyl.  Writh  what  excuses  his  denial  cloaked  ?  775 
Ores.  The  father  of  these  female  worthies  came. 
Pyl.  Incensed  and  chafing  for  his  daughter’s 
death  ? 

Ores.  Ev’n  so  :  for  him  my  father  was  disdain’d. 
Pyl.  And  wants  he  courage  here  to  assert  thy 
cause  ? 

Ores.  No  warrior  he,  but  among  women  brave. 
Pyl.  Then  have  thy  woes  their  full  weight :  thou 
must  die.  781 

Ores.  First  the  deciding  vote  must  pass  against  us. 
Pyl.  Deciding  what?  I  tremble  as  I  ask. 

Ores.  Or  life,  or  death.  Few  words  speak  great 
events. 

Pyl.  Fly  then,  and  with  thy  sister  leave  this 
house.  785 

Ores.  Seest  thou  the  guards  that  close  their  wea¬ 
pons  round  ? 

Eitrip.  Vol.  ill*. — Q 


I 


182  EURIPIDES. 

Pyl.  Each  street  I  saw,  each  pass  secured  with 
arms. 

Ores.  We  are  invested,  like  a  sea-girt  town. 

Pyl.  Mine  also  is  misfortune,  ruin  mine. 

Ores.  Ruin !  from  whence  ?  Thy  ills  augment 
my  woes.  790 

Pyl.  My  father  in  his  rage  hath  banish’d  me. 
Ores.  What,  on  some  public,  or  a  private  charge  ? 
Pyl.  As  impious,  aiding  in  thy  mother’s  death. 
Ores.  Unhappy, shalt  thou  suffer  in  my  ills? 

Pyl.  I  shall  not,  like  the  Spartan,  shrink  from 
them.  795 

Ores.  Like  mine,  should  Argos  meditate  thy 
death  ? 

Pyl.  They  have  no  right;  I  am  no  subject 
here. 

Ores.  The  many,  when  bad  rulers  prompt  to  ill, 
Regard  no  rights. 

Pyl.  But  when  good  lead  to  good, 

Their  counsels  well  advised  breathe  temperate  wis¬ 
dom.  800 

Ores.  Well,  be  it  so.  But  shall  we  now  consult 
Our  common  good  ? 

Pyl.  Propose  the  important  theme. 

Ores.  To  urge  my  plea  before  them. 

Pyl.  Vindicate 

Thy  deed  as  righteous? 

Ores.  Righteous,  as  avenging 

My  father’s  blood. 

Pyl.  Harshly,  I  fear,  their  brows  805 

Will  frown  upon  thee. 

Ores.  Should  fear  hold  me  mute, 

And  yield  me  tame  to  death  ? 

Pyl.  Unmanly  that. 

Ores.  What  should  I  do  ? 

Pyl.  Hast  thou,  remaining  here. 

Prospect  of  safety  ? 

Ores.  Safety  dwells  not  here. 

Pyl.  In  going  hast  thou  hope  ? 


ORESTES. 


183 


Ores.  Should  it  take  well, 

It  might  succeed.  811 

Pyl.  Attempt  it  boldly  then  ; 

Go :  if  to  die,  ’tis  nobler  to  die  there. 

Ores.  My  cause  is  just. 

Pyl.  Would  Heaven  they  so  may  think! 

Ores.  Thus  I  avoid  the  charge  of  guilty  fear. 
Some  one,  indignant  at  my  father’s  death,  815 
Perchance  may  pity  me. 

Pyl.  I  see  it  all, 

And  the  bright  lustre  thy  high  birth  throws  round 
thee. 

Ores.  I  will  not  stay,  and,  like  a  coward  slave, 
Die  tamely  here. 

Pyl.  I  praise  thy  noble  spirit. 

Ores.  But  to  my  sister  shall  we  make  this  known  1 
Pyl.  No,  I  conjure  thee. 

Ores.  She  would  be  all  tears.  821 

Pyl.  Avoid  the  omen  then  :  in  silence  go ; 

Nor  let  her  grief  unseasonably  detain  thee. 

Ores.  Yet  one  distress  afflicts  me  :  should  the 
Furies 

Rouse  all  their  terrors,  and  affright  my  soul.  825 
Pyl.  My  care  shall  watch  around  thee. 

Ores.  To  attend 

A  man  disorder’d  thus,  to  guard,  to  hold  him, 

Is  an  unpleasing  office. 

Pyl.  But  for  thee 

Delightful  to  my  love. 

Ores.  Yet  have  a  care 

Lest  my  contagious  phrensy  seize  on  thee.  830 
Pyl.  No  more  of  phrensy. 

Ores.  Wilt  thou  not  be  shock’d 

At  this  hard  task? 

Pyl.  No  office  shocks  a  friend. 

Ores.  Be  thou  my  pilot  then, — 

Pyl.  A  welcome  charge. 

Ores.  And  guide  my  footsteps  to  my  father’s 
tomb, 


184 


EURIPIDES. 


That  I  may  pour  my  supplications  there,  835 

And  move  his  shade  to  aid  me. 

Pyl.  Pious  this, 

And  just. 

Ores.  But  from  my  mother’s  lead  me  far. 

Let  me  not  see  it. 

Pyl.  All  is  hostile  there. 

But  haste  thee,  ere  the  fatal  vote  be  pass’d. 

Lean  on  me  ;  let  me  throw  my  arm  around  thee,  840 
Thus  hold  thee,  thus  support  thy  feeble  limbs, 

And  bear  thee  through  the  crowd  of  gazing  eyes 
Regardless.  Where  shall  friendship  show  its  faith, 
If  now  in  thy  afflictions  1  forsake  thee  1  844 

Ores.  This  is  to  have  a  friend  ;  compared  to  this, 
What  are  the  ties  of  blood  1  The  man  who  melts 
With  social  sympathy,  though  not  allied, 

Is  than  a  thousand  kinsmen  of  more  worth. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE. 

The  exalted  state,  the  imperial  power, 

Which  spread  o’er  Greece  its  ample  sway,  850 
And  girt  with  war,  on  the  barbaric  shore 
Taught  the  proud  streams  of  Simois  to  obey, 
Withdraw  their  glories.  Discord  (as  of  old 
Fierce  mid  the  sons  of  Tantalus  she  rose, 

And  for  the  rich  ram  fleeced  with  gold  855 

Prepared  the  feast  of  horrid  woes  ; 

Whence  Vengeance  bared  the  flaming  sword, 
And  blood  for  blood  remorseless  pour’d) 

Now  through  the  house  of  Atreus  lords  it  wide,  859 
And,  fill’d  with  carnage,  swells  her  sanguine  pride. 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Honour  is  honour  now  no  more, 

Since  with  fierce  rage  he  dared  invade 
His  parent’s  breast ;  and,  his  hand  stain’d  with  gore. 
Waved  to  the  golden  sun  his  crimson  blade. 

864  It  was  the  custom  of  the  ancients,  when  any  one  had 


ORESTES. 


185 


Ill  actions  are  displeasing  to  the  skies,  865 

And  moon-eyed  Folly  marks  them  for  her  own. 
Heardst  thou  not  Clytemnestra’s  cries, 

Her  thrilling  shrieks,  her  dying  moan  ? 

“  The  mother  by  the  son  to  bleed ! 

Ah,  dare  not ;  ’tis  an  impious  deed  :  870 

Nor,  in  wild  reverence  to  thy  father’s  name, 

Blot  with  eternal  infamy  thy  fame !” 

EPODE. 

Is  there,  in  all  Heaven’s  angry  store, 

Misfortune,  sorrow,  sickness,  pain, — 

Is  there  an  ill  that  racks,  that  tortures  more,  875 
Than  by  the  unpitying  son  the  parent  slain? 

Ah,  spare,  unhappy  youth,  thy  mother  spare  ! — 

’Tis  done :  like  vultures  see  the  Furies  rise, 

And  rend  his  soul  with  wild  despair : 

See  how  he  rolls  his  haggard  eyes !  880 

When  from  her  gold-embroider’d  vest 
Suppliant  she  bared  her  heaving  breast, 

Ah,  couldst  thou  strike  1 — He  struck  (0  deed  ab- 
horr’d !) 

And  ruthless  in  her  bosom  plunged  the  sword. 

ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

Elec.  Ye  virgins,  hath  the  poor  Orestes,  struck 
With  madness  from  the  gods,  rush’d  from  the 
house  ?  /  886 

Cho.  Not  so ;  but  to  the  assembled  state  of 
Argos 

He  goes,  resolved  to  strive  in  this  hard  contest, 
W'here  life  to  him  and  thee,  or  death’s  the  prize. 
Elec.  Ah  me  !  what  hath  he  done  1  Who  coun¬ 
seled  this  ?  890 

Cho.  Pylades:  but  this  messenger  will  tell  thee 
All  that  hath  pass’d  touching  thy  brother  there. 

avenged  himself  by  the  slaughter  of  another,  with  justice  and 
honour  as  he  thought,  to  wave  his  bloody  sword  to  the  sun,  as 
if  he  made  the  gods  witnesses  of  his  innocence. 

Q  2 


186 


EURIPIDES. 


MESSENGER,  ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

Mes.  Unhappy  daughter  of  that  mighty  chief, 
Who  led  the  powers  of  Greece,  revered  Electra, 
How  shall  my  tongue  disclose  this  tale  of  wo  ?  895 
Elec.  Ah  me  !  we  are  no  more  :  thy  faltering 
voice 

In  broken  accents  speaks  the  tragic  tale. 

Mes.  Ev’n  so  :  the  fatal  sentence  is  pronounced  : 
This  day  thy  brother  and  thyself  must  die. 

Elec.  Long  have  my  fears,  presaging  this  event, 
With  mournful  expectation  sunk  my  heart.  901 
But  was  there  no  debate  1  Whose  ruling  voice 
Procured  this  sentence!  Tell  me,  good  old  man, 
Arm  they  their  hands  with  stones  1  Or  by  the 
sword 

Together  sink  we  in  one  common  death  ?  905 

Mes.  I  left  my  rural  cottage,  and  the  gates 
Of  Argos  enter’d,  with  fond  wish  to  learn 
To  thee  and  to  Orestes  what  had  chanced. 

Prompted  by  that  high  reverence  which  I  bore 
Thy  father;  for  his  house  supported  me,  910 

Though  poor,  yet  not  unfaithful.  Soon  I  saw 
The  thronging  people  hurry  to  that  height, 

Where,  as  they  say,  ASgyptus  gave  them  seats 
When  Danaus  was  adjudged  to  punishment. 
Astonish’d  at  the  sight,  I  ask’d  if  war  915 

New  threatening  roused  the  city  thus  :  an  Argive 
Gave  answer, — “  Seest  thou  not  Orestes  there  1 
He  goes  to  plead  his  cause  ;  and  life  or  death 
Hangs  on  his  voice.”  I  look’d,  and  near  me  saw 
(0  piteous  spectacle  !  what  least  I  hoped  920 

To  see)  thy  brother :  as  he  walk’d,  his  eyes 
Fix’d  on  the  ground,  his  fever-weaken’d  limbs 
Supported  by  his  friend,  whose  faithful  care, 

Touch’d  with  like  grief,  guided  his  feeble  steps. 

Soon  as  the  assembly  sat,  the  herald’s  voice  925 
Proclaim’d  free  speech  to  all  who  will’d  to  speak, 
Whether  Orestes  for  his  mother  slain 


ORESTES. 


187 


Should  die,  or  not.  Talthybius  first  arose, 

Who  with  thy  father  storm’d  the  towers  of  Troy. 
Double  and  dark  his  speech,  as  one  who  lives  930 
The  slave  of  greatness  :  to  thy  father  high 
Respect  he  paid  :  but,  to  thy  brother’s  praise 
Silent,  in  honourable  terms  involved 
His  ill  intent,  as  that  he  modell’d  laws 
’Gainst,  parents  not  beseeming ;  but  his  eye  935 
Always  glanced  cheerful  on  JEgisthus’  friends: 

For  such  their  nature  ;  the  warm  shine  of  Fortune 
Allures  them,  vassals  to  the  rich  and  great. 

Next  rose  the  royal  Diomed  ;  his  voice 

Allow’d  not  death,  but  exile,  to  atone  940 

The  deed  :  discordant  clamours  echo’d  round, 

As  approbation  prompted,  or  dislike. 

An  Argive,  not  an  Argive,  next  arose  ; 

His  birth  barbaric,  of  licentious  tongue. 
Presumptuous,  turbulent,  and  prompt  to  lead,  945 
With  empty  noise,  the  populace  to  ill: 

For  the  smooth  tongue,  that  charms  to  mischief, 
bears 

A  pestilent  power;  while  Wisdom,  aiming  still 
At  virtue,  brings  its  honourable  thought, 

Though  late,  to  glorious  issue:  her  grave  voice  950 
Authority,  that  owes  its  best  grace  to  it, 

Should  countenance,  and  check  the  factious  tongue  : 
This  wretch,  suborn’d  by  Tyndarus,  clamour’d  loud 
For  death,  the  harshest  death,  involving  thee 
In  the  same  ruin  :  but  another  rose  955 

Of  different  sentiment :  no  sightly  gaud, 

But  one  in  whose  plain  form  the  eye  might  note 
A  manly,  free,  direct  integrity, 

Temper’d  with  prudence;  one  who  rarely  join’d 
The  city  circles  ;  in  his  small  domain,  960 

Which  his  own  culturing  hand  had  taught  to  smile, 

943  The  poet  is  here  supposed  to  reflect  on  the  factious 
Cleophon,  who,  though  of  Athenian  parents,  was  born  in 
Thrace. 


188 


EURIPIDES. 


Passing  in  honest  peace  his  blameless  days  : 

His  voice  to  Agamemnon’s  son  decreed 
A  crown,  his  noble  father  who  avenged, 

By  slaying  that  abandon’d,  impious  woman,  965 
Whose  vile  deeds  check’d  the  soldier’s  generous 
flame ; 

For  who  in  distant  fields,  at  Honour’s  call, 

Would  wield  his  martial  arms,  if  in  his  absence 
Pollution  stain  his  wife,  and  his  pure  bed 
Be  made  a  foul  sty  of  adulterous  lust?  970 

The  virtuous  all  approved.  Orestes  now, 
Preventing  further  argument,  advanced, 

And  thus  address’d  them  : — “  Ye  illustrious  Argives, 
Who  from  a  line  of  ancient  heroes  draw 
Your  high-born  race,  to  vindicate  your  honour,  975 
Not  less  than  to  avenge  my  father’s  death, 

I  did  this  deed  :  for  should  the  husband’s  blood 
Leave  on  the  wife’s  hand  no  foul  stain,  full  soon 
The  purple  tide  would  flow,  or  you  must  sink 
(0  shame  to  manhood  !)  vile  slaves  to  your  wives. 
Now  she,  that  to  my  father’s  bed  was  false,  981 
Hath  died  for  it :  if  you  require  my  life, 

The  law  hath  lost  its  force ;  and  who  shall  say 
His  own  life  is  secure,  as  these  bold  deeds 
From  frequency  draw  force,  and  mock  at  justice  1” 
These  truths  were  lost  in  air,  and  that  vile  talker,  986 
Whose  malice  call’d  for  death  to  both,  prevail’d. 
Harsh  was  the  sentence,  and  the  unhappy  youth 
Scarce  gain’d  this  sad  indulgence,  leave  to  die 
By  his  own  hand  this  day:  thou  too  must  die.  990 
Him  from  the  assembly  Pylades  with  tears 
Leads  this  way,  by  a  few,  a  faithful  few 
Accompanied,  whose  eyes,  melting  with  pity, 

Rain  bitter  dew :  he  comes,  a  dismal  sight,  994 
To  pierce  thy  soul  with  grief.  But  haste,  prepare 
The  sword ;  thou  too  must  die :  thy  high-born 
race 

Avails  not,  nor  the  oracle  of  Phoebus, 

Whose  fatal  answer  brings  destruction  on  you. 


ORESTES. 


189 


Cho.  Why,  miserable  virgin,  dost  thou  bend 
Thy  clouded  eye  to  the  earth  ?  Why  silent  thus  1 
Give  thy  griefs  voice,  and  let  thy  sorrows  flow.  1001 

ELECTRA. 

STROPHE. 

Yes,  I  will  let  my  sorrows  flow, 

And  give  to  grief  the  melancholy  strain; 

And,  as  the  mournful  notes  complain 
With  all  the  heart-felt  agony  of  wo,  1005 

These  hands  my  bleeding  cheeks  shall  tear, 

And  beat  this  head  in  wild  despair, 

Devoted  to  the  queen,  that  rules  beneath 
The  realms  of  darkness  and  of  death. 

Daughters  of  Argos,  with  loud  shrieks  deplore  1010 
The  house  of  Atreus,  now  no  more  ; 

Fallen,  by  too  severe  a  fate, 

From  the  proud  glories  of  its  splendent  state. 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Low,  low  they  lie,  the  imperial  line, 

The  imperial  race  of  Pelops,  vanish’d,  gone  ;  1015 

No  trace  remains,  no  name,  no  son  : 

Their  vaunted  honours  in  the  dust  decline. 

From  envious  gods  these  ruins  come, 

And  the  harsh  city’s  bloody  doom. 

Short  is  the  day  of  life,  each  little  hour  1020 

With  toils,  with  miseries  clouded  o’er: 

Should  brightening  Hope,  to  cheer  the  troubled  day, 
Pour  through  the  gloom  a  transient  ray, 

Fate  comes,  and  o’er  the  darken’d  scene 
Spreads  the  deep  horrors  of  its  dreary  reign.  1025 

EPODE. 

O,  for  an  eagle’s  wing,  whose  rapid  flight 
Might  bear  me  to  the  ethereal  height, 

Where,  to  Olympus  fix’d,  the  golden  chain 
Suspends  the  ponderous,  trembling  mass  : 

There  should  my  wo-wild  notes  complain  1030 
To  the  hoar  author  of  my  race. 


190 


EURIPIDES. 


From  Tantalus  our  lineage  springs, 

A  mighty  race  of  sceptred  kings  : 

Great  as  they  are,  around  them  wait 
The  vengeful  ministers  of  fate  ;  1035 

Since  Pelops  with  impetuous  force 
Lash’d  his  proud  steeds,  and  urged  their  fiery 
course ; 

And  as  the  bounding  wheels  they  bore 
Along  Geraestus’  rock-rough  shore, 

Saw  Myrtilus  extended  there,  1040 

Hurl’d  headlong  from  the  rapid  car: 

With  gloomy  joy  he  smiled,  and  gave 

The  mangled  limbs  to  stain  the  foaming  wave. 

To  Atreus  thence  pernicious  came 

From  Maia’s  son  the  fatal  ram,  1045 

Who  gave  his  golden  fleece  to  shine 

Destructive,  a  destructive  sign. 

Hence,  Discord,  hence  thy  horrid  deeds 
Startled  the  sun’s  indignant  steeds ; 

Back  to  the  east  they  wing  their  way,  1050 
And  meet  the  morn’s  affrighted  ray : 

The  Pleiads,  hastening  to  advance, 

Start  back,  and  change  their  seven-fold  dance. 
Hence  false  Aerope,  in  honey’d  smiles 
Conceal’d  her  wanton,  ruinous  wiles :  1055 

Hence  to  Thyestes’  horrid  feast 
Came  Slaughter,  a  tremendous  guest ; 

And,  her  hand  reeking  with  my  father’s  blood, 
Draws  from  my  heart  the  purple  flood.  1059 

1040  Myrtilus,  the  son  of  Mercury,  was  the  charioteer  of 
CEnomaus,  who  was  told  by  the  oracle  that  the  marriage  of  his 
daughter  Hippodamia  would  be  fatal  to  him :  he  therefore 
endeavoured  to  keep  her  unmarried,  and  each  suitor  was  obliged 
to  contend  with  him  in  a  chariot  race  from  Pisa  to  the  altar  of 
Neptune  on  the  Isthmus  at  Corinth.  The  conditions  were 
these  :  the  lover  started  first ;  CEnomaus  then  sacrificed  a  ram 
to  Jupiter,  and  pursued,  holding  in  his  hand  a  spear,  with  which 
he  was  to  slay  the  youth  if  he  should  overtake  him.  Thirteen 
perished  in  this  manner,  yet  Pelops  was  not  dismayed :  he  was 
victorious.  Myrtilus  was  thrown  from  the  chariot,  and  killed. 


ORESTES. 


191 


Cho.  But  see,  thy  brother,  by  the  Argive  state 
Condemn’d  to  bleed,  advances  slow;  and  with  him 
The  faithful  Pylades  with  a  brother’s  love 
Shares  in  his  griefs,  and  guides  his  feeble  steps. 

ELECTRA,  ORESTES,  PYLADES,  CHORUS. 

Elec.  Ah  me!  my  brother,  while  I  yet  behold 
thee, 

Let  me  indulge  my  grief,  ere  yet  the  tomb,  1065 
Yet  ere  the  solemn  pyre  in  its  black  shade 
Wraps  our  dead  limbs,  let  me  indulge  my  grief, 

My  frantic  grief;  fix  my  fond  eyes  on  thee, 

That  never,  never  must  behold  thee  more. 

Ores.  Wilt  thou  not  cease  these  womanish  wail¬ 
ings,  meet  1070 

This  harsh  decree  with  silence,  and  abide, 

Firmly  abide,  the  rigour  of  our  fate  ? 

Elec.  Can  I  be  silent,  when  our  eyes  no  more 
Shall  see  yon  golden  sun’s  irradiate  light  1 
Ores.  Kill  me  not  thou:  forbear:  enough  of 
death  1075 

Have  I  already  from  the  hands  of  Argos. 

Elec.  Thy  youth  I  mourn,  and  thy  untimely  death : 
Life  was  thy  due,  when,  ah !  thou  art  no  more. 
Ores.  Now  by  the  gods,  throw  not  this  softness 
round  me, 

Nor  make  the  unmanly  tear  drop  at  our  woes.  1080 
Elec.  We  die  ;  and  shall  the  tear  not  flow  1  That 
dew 

Pity  will  shed  o’er  the  lost  joys  of  life. 

Ores.  This  day  must  we  needs  die :  prepare  we 
then 

The  sword,  or  other  instrument  of  death.  1084 
Elec.  My  brother,  do  thou  kill  me ;  let  no  Argive 
Touch  with  his  rude  hand  Agamemnon’s  daughter. 

Ores.  No  ;  in  thy  mother’s  blood  I  have  enough ; 
I  shed  not  thine  :  but  by  thy  own  hand  die. 

Elec.  I  will,  and  not  desert  thy  honest  sword. 

But  let  me  throw  my  fond  arms  round  thy  neck. 


192 


EURIPIDES. 


Ores.  Vain  is  the  joy,  if  yet  it  be  a  joy,  1091 
In  death  to  sooth  thee  with  a  last  embrace. 

Elec.  My  brother !  O  that  dearest,  best-loved 
name ! 

Dear  to  thy  sister,  partner  of  my  soul ! 

Ores.  Why  wilt  thou  melt  me  thus  ?  And  yet  I 
wish,  1095 

Returning-  thy  embrace,  to  fold  thee  close, 

Close  in  my  arms  ;  nor  modesty  forbids : 

It  is  my  sister :  let  me  clasp  thee  then, 

And  press  thee  to  my  bosom,  fondly  press  thee. 

This  sweet  exchange  of  love  is  all  our  woes  1100 
Allow  us  for  the  names  of  wedded  joys. 

Elec.  Q,  may  the  same  sword  end  us,  the  same 
tomb 

Close  in  its  cedar  hearsement  our  cold  limbs ! 

Ores.  That  would  be  joy :  but  destitute  of  friends, 
Who  shall  inurn  us  in  one  common  tomb  J  1105 
Elec.  Did  Menelaus  my  father  then  betray  1 
Did  not  the  wretch  plead  earnest  thy  life  1 

Ores.  He  durst  not  show  his  false  eye ;  but,  his 
hopes 

Fix’d  on  the  sceptre,  fear’d  to  save  his  friends. 

But  let  us  in  our  death  give  shining  proof  1110 
Of  our  illustrious  birth  :  my  hand  shall  show 
My  high  nobility,  and  plunge  the  sword 
Intrepid  through  my  breast :  dare  thou  the  like. 
Thou,  Pylades,  be  umpire  of  our  death ; 

With  decent  care  compose  our  breathless  limbs, 
And  lay  them  in  my  father’s  sepulchre.  1116 

Farewell.  I  go  to  execute  the  deed. 

Pyl.  Yet  stay :  one  charge  against  thee  must  I 
bring,  ~ 

Shouldst  thou  but  hope  I  would  survive  thy  death. 
Ores.  And  what  avails  it  that  thou  die  with  me  ? 
Pyl.  Without  thy  converse  what  can  life  avail  ? 
Ores.  Thou  hast  not  slain  thy  mother:  1  slew 
mine.  1122 

Pyl.  I  shared  the  deed  •  the  suffering  I  should 
share. 


ORESTES.  193 

Ores.  0,  save  thee  for  thy  father ;  die  not  with 

me  : 

Thou  hast  a  country  ;  that  name’s  lost  to  me :  1125 
Thou  hast  a  father’s  house,  hast  greatness,  wealth. 
If  this  ill-fated  maid,  whom  to  thy  arms, 

The  sanction  of  our  friendship,  1  betrothed  ; — 

If  she  be  lost,  some  other  nuptial  bed 

Awaits  to  bless  thee  with  a  father’s  joys.  1130 

Our  dear  relation  is  no  more  :  my  friend, 

Thou,  whose  sweet  converse  was  my  soul’s  delight, 
Farewell :  for  thee  the  joys  of  life  remain  ; 

To  us  they  wither  in  the  shade  of  death. 

Pyl.  Wide  from  my  honest  purpose  dost  thou 
stray. 

May  not  the  fertile  earth,  nor  the  bright  air  1136 
Receive  my  blood,  if  ever  I  forsake  thee, 

To  spare  myself  if  ever  I  forsake  thee  ! 

Together  I  design’d,  together  wrought 
Thy  mother’s  death,  which  draws  this  fate  on  thee  : 
Together  will  I  die  with  thee  and  her  :  1141 

Dear  to  my  soul,  affianced  to  my  bed, 

I  deem  her  as  my  wife.  Should  I  return 
To  Delphi,  the  high  citadel  of  Phocis, 

Dare  I  name  honour,  if  united  thus  1145 

While  Fortune  favour’d  your  high  state,  but  now 
The  false  friend  shrink  from  your  adversity  1 
Not  so :  these  things  demand  my  deep  regard. 

Yet,  ere  we  die,  some  measure  let  us  form 
To  afflict  with  grief  the  heart  of  Menelaus.  1150 
Ores.  Let  me  see  that,  my  friend ;  then  let  me 
die ! 

Pyl.  Be  then  advised,  and  let  the  keen  sword 
wait. 

Ores.  Shall  then  my  just  revenge  burst  on  his 
head. 

Pyl.  No  more  :  these  women, — I  distrust  their 
faith. 

Ores.  They  are  all  truth,  all  friendship  ;  fear  them 
not.  1155 

Eurip.  Yol.  III. — R 


194 


EURIPIDES, 


Pyl.  Let  us  slay  Helen :  that  would  grieve  Ills 
soul. 

Ores.  How  1  I  approve  it,  be  it  nobly  done. 

Pyl.  Let  the  sword  end  her :  in  my  house  she 
lurks. 

Ores.  She  doth,  and  seals  its  treasures  for  her  own. 

Pyl.  Espoused  to  Pluto,  she  will  seal  no  more. 

Ores.  But  how,  around  her  that  barbaric  train  ? 

Pyi,.  What  are  they  1  For  of  Phrygians  naught 
I  dread.  1162 

Ores.  Marshals  of  mirrors  and  cosmetic  washes. 

Pyl.  Brings  she  these  Trojan  gewgaws  back  to 
Greece  1 

Ores.  Greece  !  ’Tis  a  paltry  spot ;  she  breathes 
not  in  it.  1165 

Pyl.  Well  may  the  free  distain  a  host  of  slaves. 

Ores.  To  achieve  this  deed,  twice  would  I  die 
with  joy. 

Pyl.  Twice  would  I  die,  might  I  thy  vengeance 
aid. 

Ores.  Disclose  thy  purpose,  and  accomplish  it. 

Pyl.  We  enter  as  in  readiness  to  die.  1170 

Ores.  Thus  far  I  comprehend  thee,  but  no  more. 

Pyl.  To  her  with  loud  laments  bewail  our  fate. 

Ores.  To  extort  the  tear,  though  her  heart  bounds 
with  joy. 

Pyl.  This  be  her  hour :  the  next  may  we  enjoy. 

Ores.  How  then  to  execute  the  destined  deed  1 

Pyl.  Bear  we  our  swords  conceal’d  beneath  our 
vests.  1176 

Ores.  But  can  destruction  reach  her  mid  her  train! 

Pyl.  Confined  apart,  naught  shall  that  crew  avail. 

Ores.  And  if  one  dares  to  clamour,  let  him  die. 

Pyl.  In  that  the  immediate  exigence  will  guide 
us.  1180 

Ores.  The  death  of  Helen  then,  that  is  the  word. 

Pyl.  Agreed.  That  Honour  dictates  this,  now 
hear. 

To  draw  the  sword  against  a  virtuous  woman 


ORESTES. 


195 


Would  blot  our  names  with  infamy.  Her  blood 
All  Greece  demands,  for  sons,  for  fathers  slain  1185 
In  her  cursed  cause,  for  the  deep  sigh  that  rends 
The  widow’d  matron’s  desolated  heart. 

Shouts  of  applause  would  rend  the  air,  thick  fires 
Blaze  to  the  gods,  and  many  a  fervent  prayer 
Draw  blessings  on  our  heads.  No  longer  call’d 
The  murderer  of  thy  mother,  thou  shalt  hear  1191 
The  applauding  voice  of  Greece  with  triumph  hail 
thee 

Revenger  of  the  mischief-working  Helen. 

What,  shall  the  treacherous  Menelaus  then  smile, 
Proud  of  his  high  success  ;  and,  while  thy  father, 
Thyself,  thy  sister  fall,  thy  mother  too  1196 

(But  I  forbear ;  for  Honour,  at  her  name, 

Dims  its  pale  fires) ;  seize  thy  rich-treasured  house 
As  his  inheritance,  and  with  joyous  heart 
Clasp  his  fair  wife,  by  Agamemnon’s  spear  1200 
Recover’d  to  his  arms  1  Let  me  not  live, 

If  I  not  draw  the  gloomy  sword  against  her. 

Failing  in  this,  we’ll  set  the  house  on  flames, 

And  nobly  in  the  blazing  ruins  die. 

One  must  succeed  :  the  glory  shall  be  ours,  1205 
To  die  with  honour,  or  with  honour  live. 

Cho.  This  guilty  fair,  a  scandal  to  her  sex, 

Merits  the  abhorrence  of  each  virtuous  dame. 

Ores.  Life  hath  no  blessing  like  a  prudent  friend, 
Than  treasured  wealth  more  precious,  than  the 
power  1210 

Of  monarchs,  and  the  people’s  loud  applause. 

Thou  on  iEgisthus  guidedst  my  just  rage, 

Nor  in  my  dangers  wast  thou  absent ;  now 
Thou  givest  me  vengeance  on  mine  enemies, 

Nor  shrinks  thy  firm  foot  back.  But  I  forbear,  1215 
Nor  with  intemperate  praise  thine  ear  offend. 

I  will  not  tamely  die,  but  in  my  fall 
Pull  ruin  on  my  foes  :  they  too  shall  weep, 

The  traitors !  they  shall  have  their  share  of  wo. 
The  illustrious  Agamemnon  was  my  sire,  1220 


196 


EURIPIDES. 


Imperial  chief  of  Greece  ;  no  tyrant  he, 

But  clothed  with  the  awful  power  of  the  just  gods. 

I  will  not  blot  his  splendours,  like  a  slave 
Crouching  to  death  ;  but  with  a  liberal  pride 
Throw  life  away,  first  glorying  in  revenge.  1225 
Whiche’er  succeeds,  we  triumph  :  yet  if  thence 
Despair  force  safety  ;  if  the  sword  should  glance 
From  us  and  wound  their  breasts,  I  have  my  wish : 
Transport  is  in  the  thought ;  and  the  light  words, 
Charged  with  no  costly  pleasure,  sooth  my  soul. 
Elec.  And  this  suggests  a  thought,  which  lifts  my 
mind  1231 

To  hope  success  and  safety  to  us  all. 

Ores.  The  prescience  of  a  god  inspires  thy  voice. 
But  how  1  O,  say ;  for  wisdom  too  is  thine. 

Elec.  Then  hear  :  arid  thou,  my  brother,  mark  my 
words.  1235 

Ores.  Speak  :  there  is  pleasure  in  the  hope  of 
good. 

Elec.  The  daughter  of  this  Helen  dost  thou  know  ? 
Ores.  The  fair  Hermione,  our  mother’s  charge  ? 
Elec.  She  now  is  gone  to  Clytemnestra’s  tomb. 
Ores.  With  what  intent  1  Thy  words  awaken 
hope.  1240 

Elec.  To  pour  libations  for  her  mother  there. 
Ores.  As  means  of  safety  dost  thou  tell  me  this  ? 
Elec,  Her,  when  she  enters,  as  a  hostage  seize. 
Ores.  And  what  relief  can  thy  thoughts  hope  from 
her.  1245 

Elec.  If  Menelaus  shall  for  his  slaughter’d  wife 
Attempt  revenge  on  thee,  or  me,  or  him 
(For  the  close  bond  of  friendship  makes  us  one), 
Tell  him  that  thou  wilt  kill  Hermione, 

And  hold  the  drawn  sword  to  the  virgin’s  breast : 

If,  trembling  for  his  daughter,  when  he  sees  1250 
His  wife  all  weltering  in  her  blood,  he  saves 
Thy  life,  the  virgin  give  him  back  unhurt ; 

But  should  his  wild  ungovernable  rage 
Demand  thy  life,  plunge  deep  the  unpitying  steel. 


ORESTES.  197 

Yet  I  am  well  assured,  his  rage,  though  fierce  1255 
At  first,  will  soften  soon  ;  for  nature  form’d  him 
Nor  bold,  nor  brave :  this  then  I  deem  the  fort 
That  guards  our  lives.  You  have  what  I  advise. 

Ores.  Thou  excellence,  that  to  the  form  divine, 
The  sweet  attractive  charm  of  female  grace,  1260 
Hast  join’d  a  manly  spirit,  shalt  thou  die  1 
Shalt  thou,  my  friend,  deplore  her  loss,  with  whom, 
Accomplish’d  as  she  is,  a  life  of  love 
Were  happiness  supreme  1 

Pyl.  Would  Heaven  indulge 

My  warm  wish,  tower’d  Phocis  should  receive  her, 
With  golden  H^men  smiling  in  our  train.  1266 
Ores.  When  will  Hermione  return  1  Our  toils, 

If  we  can  take  the  young  one,  must  succeed, 

And  gloriously  entangle  the  old  savage. 

Elec.  Each  moment,  such  the  distance,  I  expect 
her.  1270 

Ores.  ’Tis  well.  My  sister,  my  Electra,  wait 
Here,  and  receive  the  virgin.  Let  thine  eye 
Keep  wary  watch ;  if  friend,  or  partisan, 

Or  ev’n  my  father’s  brother  to  the  house 
Approach  to  hinder  us,  some  signal  give,  1275 
Or  beat  the  door,  or  raise  thy  thrilling  voice. 

And  now,  my  friend,  still  faithful  to  my  toils, 
Address  we  to  this  great  emprise,  and  entering 
Each  with  the  sword  of  justice,  arm  our  hands. 

And  thou,  who  in  the  gloomy  house  of  night  1280 
Hast  thy  sad  dwelling,  father,  royal  shade, 

Thy  son,  Orestes,  calls  thee  ;  at  my  prayers 
Assistant  come :  for  thee  these  sufferings  fall 
Unjustly  on  my  head,  for  my  just  deeds. 

Betray’d  by  thy  base  brother,  ’gainst  his  wife  1285 
My  stern  intents  are  bent :  aid  our  revenge. 

Elec.  Father,  if  in  the  realms  beneath  thou  hear 
Thy  children  call,  0,  come !  for  thee  we  die. 

1289  Anaxibia,  the  wife  of  Strophius,  and  mother  of  Pylade^ 
was  the  sister  of  Agamemnon. 

R  2 


EURIPIDES. 


198 

Pyl.  Spirit  of  Agamemnon,  kindred  shade,  1289 
Hear  me  too,  hear  thy  suppliant :  save  thy  children  ! 
Ores.  I  slew  my  mother. 

Pyl.  My  hand  touch’d  the  sword. 

Elec.  And  my  bold  counsels  prompted  to  the 
deed. 

Ores.  To  avenge  thee,  father. 

Elec.  Nor  did  I  betray  thee. 

Pyl.  Hear  this,  indignant  shade,  and  save  thy 
children !  1294 

Ores.  Accept  the  oblation  of  these  tears. 

Elec.  '  ,  Accept 

These  groans. 

Pyl.  Now  cease ;  and  haste  we  to  the  deed. 
If  to  the  realms  beneath  prayers  wing  their  way, 

He  hears.  Thou,  Jove,  our  great  progenitor, 
Awfully  just,  to  him,  to  me,  to  her 
Extend  thy  guardian  power :  this  trinal  band  1300 
One  cause,  one  safety,  or  one  ruin  joins  ; 

We  live  together,  or  together  die. 

ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

ELECTRA. 

Virgins  of  high  Pelasgian  race, 

Achaia’s  pride,  Mycenae’s  grace  ! 

CHORUS. 

Why,  royal  maid,  these  plaintive  strains  1  1305 
That  name,  that  title  yet  remains. 

ELECTRA. 

Divide,  divide  ;  with  careful  view 
Watch  you  the  street,  the  entrance  you. 

CHORUS. 

And  why  to  us  this  task  assign’d  ? 

Unfold,  sweet  friend,  unfold  thy  mind.  1310 

ELECTRA. 

Lest  any,  standing  near  the  gate, 

Find  in  this  scene  of  blood  her  fate. 

SEMICHORUS  i. 

Haste,  to  your  stations  quickly  run : 

My  watch  be  towards  the  rising  sun. 


ORESTES. 


199 


SEMICHORUS.  II. 

Be  mine  with  cautious  care  address’d  1315 
To  where  he  sinks  him  in  the  west. 

ELECTRA. 

Now  here,  now  there,  now  far,  now  nigh, 
Quick-glancing  dart  the  observant  eye. 

SEMICHORUS  i. 

With  fond  affection  we  obey, 

Our  eyes  quick-glancing  every  way.  1320 

ELECTRA. 

Glance  through  that  length  of  hair,  which  flows 
Light-waving  o’er  your  shaded  brows. 

SEMICHORUS  i. 

This  way  a  man  comes  hastening  down : 

His  garb  bespeaks  a  simple  clown. 

ELECTRA. 

Undone,  undone,  should  he  disclose  1325 

These  couch’d,  arm’d  lions  to  their  foes. 

SEMICHORUS  i. 

He  passes  on,  suppress  thy  fear  ; 

And  all  this  way  again  is  clear. 

ELECTRA  TO  SEMICHORUS  II. 

And  that  way  doth  no  footstep  rude 
Disturb  the  wish’d-for  solitude  1  1330 

SEMICHORUS  II. 

This  way  no  rude  step  beats  the  ground ; 

But  all  is  still,  all  safe  around. 

ELECTRA. 

Patience  exhausted  bears  no  more  : 

Near  will  I  listen  at  the  door. 

Favour’d  with  silence,  why  so  slow  1335 

To  let  the  purple  torrent  flow  1 
Blinded  by  beauty’s  dazzling  ray, 

Do  your  charm’d  swords  refuse  to  obey  1 
They  hear  not.  Roused  at  these  alarms, 

Some  Argive  soon  will  rush  in  arms  ;  1340 

And  in  her  aid  vindictive  spread 
Horror  and  ruin  on  our  head. 


200 


EURIPIDES. 


Watch,  virgins,  watch  with  strictest  care : 
Repose,  hath  nothing  to  do  here. 

\  i  CHORUS. 

With  transverse  watch  our  heedful  eye  1345 
Each  various  way — 

Hel.  Io,  Pelasgian  Argos,  I  am  slain !  [within. 
Elec.  Hark !  their  bold  hands  are  in  the  bloody 
act. 

It  was  the  cry  of  Helena,  I  deem.  1349 

Cho.  0  Jove,  eternal  power,  hear  us,  and  ever 
Protect  our  friends ! 

Hel.  My  dearest  Menelaus, 

I  die  ;  where  art  thou  1  fly,  O,  fly  to  save  me  ! 

ELECTRA. 

Kill,  slay,  strike,  wound,  despatch,  destroy  : 
With  iron  smiles  of  gloomy  joy 
Plunge  deep  the  huge  tempestuous  blade,  1355 
For  blood,  for  death,  for  carnage  made, 

Deep  in  her  breast.  She  basely  fled 
Her  father’s  house,  her  husband’s  bed. 

Hence  many  a  Greek  in  battle  slain 

Lies  mouldering  on  the  Phrygian  plain  ;  1360 

Hence,  to  call  forth  the  bursting  tear, 

The  arrowy  shower,  the  hurtling  spear ; 

And  hence  Scamander’s  silver  flood 
Whirls  his  swoln  eddies  stain’d  with  blood. 

CHORUS. 

Hark  !  hark  !  I  hear  the  sound  of  feet :  1365 

The  marble  pavement  now  they  beat. 

Elec.  While  slaughter  is  at  work,  my  virgin 
friends, 

Hermione  comes:  cease  we  the  measure  then: 

She  walks  into  our  toils,  a  goodly  prize. 

Silent  resume  your  stations  ;  fix’d  your  eye,  1370 
Let  not  your  countenance  betray  the  deed. 


ORESTES. 


201 


My  eye  shall  take  again  its  mournful  cast, 

As  unacquainted  with  this  havoc  here. 

HERMIONE,  ELECTRA,  CHORUS. 

Elec.  From  Clytemnestra’s  tomb  comest  thou, 
virgin, 

Thy  hallow’d  offerings  and  libations  paid  1  1375 

Her.  I  have  appeased  her  shade.  But  from  this 
house  !  • 

The  voice  of  loud  lament  ere  my  approach 
Struck  my  astonish’d  ear :  it  makes  me  tremble. 
Elec.  Well  it  beseems  us:  we  have  cause  for 
cries. 

Her.  Be  thy  voice  tuned  to  good.  Is  there  aught 
new  1  1380 

Elec.  Orestes  and  myself  are  doom’d  to  die. 

Her.  Be  it  not  so,  by  blood  to  me  allied  ! 

Elec.  Necessity  lays  its  iron  yoke  on  us. 

Her.  For  this  did  these  laments  sound  from  the 
house  1 

Elec.  Suppliant  at  Helen’s  feet  he  raised  the  cry. 
Her.  Who  1  for  my  knowledge  on  thy  words  de¬ 
pends.  1386 

Elec.  The  poor  Orestes,  for  his  life  and  mine. 
Her.  Just  cause  for  lamentation  hath  this  house. 
Elec.  Can  Nature  know  a  stronger  1  But  come 
thou ; 

Join  in  the  supplications  of  thy  friends ;  1390 

Fall  at  thy  mother’s  knees  (how  bless’d  her  state  !) 
That  Menelaus  allow  not  that  we  die. 

O  thou,  who  from  my  mother’s  hand  receivedst 
Thy  infant  nurture,  look  with  pity  on  us, 

Our  woes  alleviate,  to  the  trial  go :  1395 

My  foot  shall  lead,  sweet  prop  of  all  our  hopes ! 

Her.  And  willingly  I  follow  :  if  my  voice, 

My  prayers,  my  power  avail,  ye  shall  not  die. 

Elec.  You  there  within  the  house,  ye  armed 
friends, 

Will  you  not  seize  your  prey  1 


202 


EURIPIDES. 


Her.  Ah,  who  are  these  140o 

Terrible  to  mine  eye  1 

Ores.  No  noise,  no  cry :  [advancing. 

To  us,  not  to  thyself,  thou  bringest  safety. 

Elec.  Here  seize  her,  seize  her ;  to  her  trembling 
breast 

Point  your  keen  swords,  and  awe  her  into  silence. 
Let  Menelaus  perceive  that  he  hath  found  men,  1405 
Not  PtJ*ygian  slaves  ;  men,  whose  bold  spirits  dare 
Retort  his  foul  wrongs  on  his  own  base  head. 

[They  lead  her  off. 

Now,  my  loved  virgins,  raise  your  voices  high ; 
Before  the  house  ring  out  the  notes  of  wo, 

That  this  bold  deed  spread  no  alarm,  nor  call  1410 
The  astonish’d  Argives  to  these  royal  gates, 

Till  I  see  Helen  rolling  in  her  blood, 

Or  from  the  slaves  attending  learn  her  fate. 

CHORUS. 

Justice  unsheathed  her  awful  sword, 

And  Vengeance  snatch’d  it  from  her  hand  :  1415 
From  heaven  her  rapid  flight  she  pour’d, 

And  plunged  in  Helen’s  breast  the  glittering  brand : 
For  this  accursed,  this  fatal  fair 
Fill’d  Greece  with  many  a  mournful  tear, 

Since  the  pernicious  Phrygian  boy  1420 

Enamour’d  bore  her  wanton  charms  to  Troy. 

Hush,  hush !  the  palace  door  resounds  ;  break  off: 

A  Phrygian  slave  comes  forth :  learn  we  from  him 
What  fate  hath  wrought  within. 

PHRYGIAN,  CHORUS. 

PHRYGIAN. 

The  Grecian  sword  from  death  I  fled  ;  1425 

In  these  barbaric  sandals  was  my  flight, 
Climbing  the  pillar’s  sculptured  head, 

And  o’er  the  cedar  rafter’s  height ; 


OftESTES. 


SOS 

For  the  unkind  earth  refused  to  save 
A  flying,  a  barbaric  slave.  1430 

Whither,  ah,  whither  shall  I  fly 
(O,  say,  ye  virgin  strangers,  say)  i 
Mount  the  gray  regions  of  the  sky, 

Or  through  the  foaming  billows  dash  my  way, 
Where,  the  firm  globe  encircling  wide*  1435 
Vex’d  Ocean  rolls  his  roaring  tide  ? 

Cho.  Servant  of  Helen,  Phrygian,  whence  these 
cries  1 

PHRYGIAN. 

0  Ilium,  Ilium  !  Wo,  wo,  wo  ! 

Ye  towers,  the  fertile  Phrygia’s  stately  boast ! 
O  sacred  Ida’s  pine-crown’d  brow  !  1440 

I  mourn,  I  mourn  your  glories  lost : 

For  you  these  doleful  notes  complain, 

A  mournful,  a  barbaric  strain. 

From  Leda’s  egg,  the  swan  her  sire, 

The  beauteous,  baleful  Helen  rose  ;  1445 

Whose  eye  on  heaven-built  Troy  glares  fire, 
And  the  rich  seat  of  Ganymede  o’erthrows 
Hence  flows,  for  Chiefs,  for  heroes  slain, 

The  mournful,  the  barbaric  strain. 

Cho.  No  longer  hold  us  in  suspense  ;  relate  1450 
Each  circumstance  :  conjecture  errs  from  truth. 

Phry.  It  is  the  song  oif  death :  your  pardon  then 
That  I  indulged  the  melancholy  strain. 

In  Asia  with  barbaric  voice  we  raise 

These  notes  of  wo,  when  by  the  ruthless  sword  1455 

The  blood  of  kings  is  shed  upon  the  earth. 

But  to  my  tale.  Of  lion  port  came  in 
Two  of  your  Grecians  ;  father  to  the  one, 

The  illustrious  leader  of  your  troops  ;  and  one 
The  son  of  Strophius,  of  deep  reserve,  1460 

And  dangerous,  dark  design  :  such  was  the  chief 
Of  Ithaca,  but  faithful  to  his  friends, 

In  battle  bold,  and  in  the  works  of  war 


204 


EURIPIDES. 


Of  sage  experience ;  as  a  dragon  fierce ; 

Perdition  on  his  silence,  which  conceal’d  1465 
Designs  of  death !  Together  they  advanced 
To  the  bright  queen  whom  Paris  call’d  his  wife, 
Their  eyes  suffused  with  tears,  humble  their  mien  ; 
And  at  her  knees,  on  each  side  one,  they7  fell, 
Besieging  her :  back  start  the  slaves,  back  starts  1470 
Each  Phrygian  minister,  some  fearing  fraud, 

More  unsuspicious  some  :  while  others  thought 
This  dragon,  crimson’d  with  his  mother’s  blood, 

The  beauteous  Spartan  in  his  toils  enclosed. 

Cho.  Where  then  wast  thou  1  Hadst  thou  first 
fled  through  fear  \  1475 

Phry.  I  then  was  standing,  in  our  Phrygian  mode, 
Was  standing  near,  and  with  the  feather’d  fan 
Raised  the  soft  gales  to  breathe  upon  her  cheeks, 

In  our  barbaric  mode,  to  bid  their  breath 
Sport  in  the  ringlets  of  her  waving  hair.  1480 

Her  curious  fingers  guide  the  thread,  the  spoils 
Of  Phrygia,  whose  rich  texture  form’d  the  woof 
To  adorn  the  purple  pall,  a  mournful  present 
To  Clytemnestra.  With  mild  voice  Orestes 
Entreats  her  to  arise,  and  go  with  him  1485 

To  an  age-honour’d  altar,  in  old  times 
The  seat  of  Pelops,  his  great  ancestor, 

That  she  might  hear  his  words  :  he  led  her,  ah  ! 

He  led  her :  unprophetic  of  her  fate, 

She  follow’d.  The  vile  Phocian,  his  compeer,  1490 
Seized  the  occasion,  and  with  stern  command 
Bade  us  be  gone  •  then,  dragg’d  to  separate  cells, 
Confined  us  from  our  royal  mistress  far. 

Cho.  What  terrible  event  ensued  ?  O,  say ! 

Phry.  Goddess  of  Ida,  potent,  potent  queen  !  1405 
What  scenes  of  blood,  what  impious  deeds  these 
eyes, 

These  eyes  amid  the  royal  rooms  beheld ! 

Each  in  his  fierce  hand  grasp’d  the  sword  conceal’d 
Beneath  their  purple  vests,  his  fiery  glance, 

Heedful  of  interruption,  darting  round ;  1500 


ORESTES. 


205 


Then,  like  two  mountain  boars,  before  the  queen 
They  stood,  and  thunder’d, — “  Thou  shalt  die,  shalt 
die  : 

Thy  coward  husband  kills  thee,  who  in  Argos 
Betrays  his  brother’s  family  to  death.” 

She  shriek’d  aloud,  and,  raising  her  white  arm,  1505 
In  miserable  manner  beat  her  head ; 

Then  bent  her  golden-sandal’d  feet  to  flight. 

But  rushing  fierce,  Orestes  in  her  hair 
Lock’d  his  rude  hand  ;  and,  bending  to  the  left  1509 
Her  head,  prepared  to  plunge  the  impetuous  sword 
Deep  in  her  throat. 

Cho.  Where  were  her  Phrygians  then! 

They  ran,  belike,  on  all  sides  to  her  aid. 

Phry.  Roused  by  her  cries,  we  burst  the  bars,  and 
each 

From  forth  his  separate  cell  rush’d  to  her  aid : 

Some  in  their  hasty  hands  snatch’d  stones,  some 
seized  1515 

The  beamy  spear,  the  unwieldy  falchion  some, 
’Gainst  us  in  dreadless  rage  the  Phocian  came, 
Fierce  as  the  Trojan  Hector,  fierce  as  Ajax, 

Whose  triple-crested  helm  I  saw,  I  saw 
Dreadfully  waving  in  the  gates  of  Priam.  1520 

Clashing  our  swords  met  his  :  but  then,  O,  then 
Was  seen,  how  weak,  how  spiritless  our  arms, 
Opposed  in  fight  against  the  force  of  Greece : 

One  hasty  running,  dying  one,  one  gash’d 
With  wounds,  wild  with  affright  another  bends,  1525 
Imploring  mercy  :  sheltering  in  the  dark 
We  fly,  and  all  was  terror,  blood,  and  death. 

Just  as  the  uplifted  sword  threaten’d  to  shed 
Her  mother’s  blood  on  the  earth,  Hermione  came ; 
Swift  with  unhallow’d  rage  they  dart  on  her,  1530 
And  seize  their  trembling  prey;  then  tuj-n  again 
To  execute  the  work  of  death  on  Helen. 

Meanwhile,  O  heaven  !  O  earth  !  O  day  !  O  night ! 
Forth  from  the  chamber  through  the  vestibule, 
Whether  by  some  enchantment,  by  the  power  1535 
Eurip.  Vol.  III. — S 


206 


EURIPIDES. 


Of  magic,  or  the  stealth  of  favouring  gods, 

She  vanish’d.  What  hath  happen’d  since  I  know 
not, 

Intent  on  hasty  flight  to  save  myself. 

For  all  his  toils,  all  his  distressful  toils, 

Barren  return  hath  Menelaus  received,  1540 

And  led  his  beauteous  wife  from  Troy  in  vain. 

Cho.  Terror  succeeds  to  terror ;  for  mine  eyes 
Behold  Orestes  there  before  the  house 
Walk  with  disorder’d  pace,  and  grasp  his  sword. 

ORESTES,  PHRYGIAN,  CHORUS. 

Ores.  Where  is  the  slave,  who  this  way  fled  my 
sword  ?  1545 

Phry.  Low  at  thy  feet  (such  our  barbaric  use) 
Thus  prostrate,  I  implore  thy  mercy,  king. 

Ores.  This  is  not  ilium,  but  the  land  of  Greece. 

Phry.  In  any  land  life  to  the  wise  is  sweet. 

Ores.  Hast  thou  raised  cries  to  call  the  Spartan’s 
aid  1  1550 

Phry.  Thee  rather  would  I  aid :  more  worthy 
thou. 

Ores.  This  Helen  then,  with  justice  did  she  die  ? 

Phry.  Most  justly:  had  she  three  lives,  she  should 
lose  them. 

Ores.  Thy  servile  fear  smooths  thy  dissembling 
tongue. 

Phry.  No  :  should  she  live,  who  wasted  Greece 
and  Troy  1  1555 

Ores.  Swear  (I  will  kill  thee  else)  thou  flatter’st 
not. 

Phry.  Now  by  my  life  I  swear,  sincerely  swear. 

Ores.  Was  the  steel  dreadful  thus  to  all  at  Troy  1 

Phry.  Keep  thy  sword  off :  near,  it  glares  terror 
tome*  ' 

Ores.  Freeze  not  to  stone,  as  seen  the  Gorgon’s 
head.  1560 

Phry.  Let  me  not  die  ;  no  Gorgon’s  head  I  know. 

Ores.  Fears  a  slave  death,  the  end  of  all  his  ills  ? 


ORESTES. 


207 


Phry.  To  slave  or  free  sweet  is  the  light  of  heaven. 
Ores.  Well  urged:  thy  wisdom  saves  thee :  go 
thou  in.  1564 

Phry.  Thou  wilt  not  kill  me  then  ? 

Ores.  In  safety  go. 

Phry.  Thy  words  breathe  music. 

Ores.  But  I  may  retract 

This  lenity. 

Phry.  No  music  breathes  in  that. 

Ores.  Fool,  if  thou  think’st  thy  blood  shall  stain 
my  sword, 

Nor  woman  thou,  nor  in  the  scale  of  men. 

To  stop  thy  clamours  came  I :  Argos  soon  1570 
Is  roused  at  every  noise.  For  Menelaus, 

We  fear  him  not ;  our  swords  shall  welcome  him : 
Let  him  then  come,  proud  of  his  golden  locks 
That  wanton  o’er  his  shoulders.  Should  he  raise 
The  men  of  Argos,  and  for  Helen’s  death  1575 
Lead  them  against  this  house,  and  menace  me, 

My  sister,  and  my  friend, — he  shall  behold 
His  daughter,  with  his  wife,  weltering  in  blood. 

CHORUS. 

semichorus  i. 

Other  horrors,  other  woes 
Rise  this  royal  house  to  enclose.  1580 

semichorus  ii. 

Haste  we  then  to  spread  the  alarm, 

Or  keep  silence,  shunning  harm  ? 
semichorus  i. 

See  the  sudden  smoke  arise, 

Waving  tidings  to  the  skies ! 

semichorus  ii. 

From  the  torch  that  dusky  wreath  1585 
Threatens  ruin,  flames,  and  death. 
chorus. 

What  event  the  gods  assign, 

Mortal,  to  submit  is  thine. 


208 


EURIPIDES. 


Here  some  stern,  relentless  power 
Bade  the  horrid  ruin  roar,  1590 

When  the  blood-stain’d  car  beneath 
Myrtilus  lay  roll’d  in  death. 

But  see,  with  hasty  step  the  Spartan  comes, 
Inform’d,  belike,  of  these  rough  deeds  of  death. 
Quick,  quick,  ye  royal  youths,  make  fast  these 
gates,  1595 

Prevent  the  foe  ;  for  to  the  unfortunate, 

Like  thee,  Orestes,  dreadful  are  the  wrongs 
Of  insolent  and  rude  prosperity. 

MENELAUS  below ,  ORESTES,  PYLADES,  ELECTRA,  HER- 

mione  above,  chorus. 

Men.  I  heard  the  horrid  and  atrocious  deeds 
Of  these  two  lions,  men  I  call  them  not :  1600 

My  wife  not  dead,  I  hear,  but  disappear’d. 

This  idle  rumour  I  received  from  one, 

Bewilder’d  with  his  fears  ;  the  bitter  scoff, 

The  artifice  of  him  that  slew  his  mother. 

Open  the  gates  here  :  slaves,  I  speak  to  you  ;  1605 
Unbar  the  gates,  that  I,  at  least,  may  save 
My  daughter  from  their  bloody  hands,  and  bear 
My  poor  lost  wife  away,  whose  murderers 
This  vengeful  hand  should  recompense  with  death. 
Ores.  Stand  off ;  forbear.  Spartan,  I  speak  to 
thee  1610 

Towering  in  pride  :  dare  but  to  touch  the  gate, 

I  will  rend  down  this  ancient  pinnacle 

That  crowns  the  battlements,  and  crush  thy  head. 

The  gates  are  shut,  and  barricaded  strong, 

To  guard  me  from  thy  efforts  and  thy  friends’.  1615 
Men.  Ha !  what  is  this  1  Wliat  mean  these 
blazing  torches  1 

Why  on  the  battlements  this  station  fix’d  1 
Why  at  my  daughter’s  bosom  points  that  sword  ? 
Ores.  Is  it  thy  will  to  question,  or  to  hear  me  * 


ORESTES. 


209 


Men.  Neither ;  but  by  compulsion  I  must  hear 
thee.  1620 

Ores.  Be  thou  assured,  thy  daughter  I  will  kill. 
Men.  Thou  hast  kill’d  Helen :  wilt  thou  shed  m*- 
blood  1 

Ores.  Would  I  had  kill’d  her,  nor  the  goda 
guiled  me ! 

Men.  Her  murder  dost  thou  tauntingly  deny  ? 
Ores.  With  sorrow  I  deny  it :  ’twas  my  wish. 
Men.  What  to  have  done  ?  Thy  words  excite  my 
fear.  1626 

Ores.  To  sacrifice  this  baleful  pest  of  Greece. 
Men.  Give  me  the  body  that  I  may  entomb  it. 
Ores.  Ask  of  the  gods :  but  I  will  kill  thy  daughter. 
Men.  The  mother  slain,  wilt  thou  add  blood  to 
blood  1  1630 

Ores.  To  avenge  my  father ;  yet  betray’d  by  thee. 
Men.  Art  thou  not  sated  with  thy  mother’s  blood. 
Ores.  Never  with  punishing  such  impious  women. 
Men.  And  art  thou,  Pylades,  accomplice  with 
him  1  1634 

Ores.  His  silence  speaks  :  sufficient  my  reply. 
Men.  But  short  thy  joy,  unless  thou  fly  on  wings. 
Ores.  We  will  not  fly  ;  but  we  will  fire  the  house. 
Men.  Thy  father’s  royal  seat  in  ruin  sink  ? 

Ores.  That  it  may  ne’er  be  thine ;  and  at  the 
flames 

Her  will  I  sacrifice. 

Men.  Ay,  kill  her,  do  ;  J  640 

I  will  have  vengeance,  ample  vengeance  on  thee. 
Ores.  Thus,  then. 

Men.  Ah,  stay  thee  :  do  not,  do  not  kill  her ! 
Ores.  Be  silent  now,  and  with  composure  bear 
The  afflictions,  which  with  justice  light  on  thee. 
Men.  What !  is  it  justice  then  that  thou  shouldst 
live?  1645 

Ores.  Live !  ay,  and  reign. 

Men.  Where  wouldst  thou  reign  1 

S  2 


210 


EURIPIDES. 


Ores.  In  Argos, 

Pelasgian  Argos. 

Men.  At  the  sacred  rites 

Well  would  those  hands  the  cleansing  lavers  touch  ; 
Ores.  And  wherefore  not  ? 

M  en.  And,  ere  the  spear  is  raised, 

Offer  the  hallow’d  victim  ! 

Ores.  Dost  not  thou  ?  1650 

Men.  And  well ;  my  hands  are  pure. 

Ores.  But  not  thy  heart. 

Men.  Who  will  hold  converse  with  thee  1 
Ores.  He  that  loves 

His  father. 

Men.  He,  too,  who  reveres  his  mother  1 
.  Ores.  Happy  his  state. 

Men.  Unhappy  then  is  thine. 

Ores.  Because  such  impious  women  I  abhor.  1655 
Men.  Take,  from  my  daughter’s  bosom  take  thy 
sword. 

Ores.  False  are  thy  words. 

Men.  My  daughter  wilt  thou  kill  I 

Ores.  Now  thou  speak’st  truth. 

Men.  Ah  me,  what  shall  I  do  I 

Ores.  Go  to  the  Argives,  and  persuade  them— 
Men.  What 

Shall  I  persuade  them  I 

Ores.  Ask  the  state  to  spare  1660 

Our  lives. 

Men.  Or  you  will  kill  my  daughter  1 
Ores.  —  Ay. 

Men.  Unhappy  Helen ! 

Ores.  Am  not  I  unhappy  ? 

Men.  From  Troy  I  brought  thee  to  be  butcher’d 
here. 

Ores.  Would  it  were  so  ! 

Men.  After  a  thousand  toils — 

Ores.  But  not  for  me. 

Men.  These  dreadful  ills  fall  on  me.  1C65 

Ores.  Thou  hadst  no  will  to  serve  me. 


ORESTES. 


211 


\ 


Men.  Thou  hast  caught  me. 

Ores.  No  ;  by  thy  baseness  thou  hast  caught  thy¬ 
self. 

But  go,  Electra,  fire  the  house  below  : 

And  thou,  my  Pylades,  my  faithful  friend, 

Set  from  these  battlements  the  roof  on  fire.  1670 
Men.  Arm,  arm,  ye  sons  of  Greece ;  ye  warlike 
Argives, 

Fly  to  my  aid.  Despair  of  life,  and  guilt, 

Stain’d  with  his  mother’s  blood,  prompt  his  bold 
hand 

In  one  wide  ruin  to  involve  the  city. 

APOLLO. 

Cease,  Menelaus  ;  forbear  this  fiery  rage  :  1675 

Apollo  speaks  :  revere  the  present  god. 

And  thou,  Orestes,  whose  uplifted  sword 
Threatens  that  virgin’s  life,  forbear,  and  hear. 

Her  whom  thy  rage,  to  work  him  wo,  assail’d, 

This  radiant  form  in  tissued  clouds  enshrined,  1680 
Snatch’d  from  thy  sword  1  saved  ;  such  the  com¬ 
mand 

Of  heaven’s  high  king :  his  beauteous-progeny 
Soars  above  mortal  fate  ;  and,  orb’d  in  heaven, 
Immortal  mid  her  kindred  stars  she  shines, 

Beaming  kind  influence  on  the  mariners.  1685 
Lead  to  thy  royal  house  another  wife  ; 

Since  by  her  beauty  the  just  gods  awoke 
’Twixt  Greece  and  Troy  the  rage  of  war,  to  free 
The  groaning  earth  from  impious  multitudes. 

Such  is  the  fate  of  Helen.  Thou,  Orestes,  1690 
Quitting  this  country,  in  Parrhasia’s  plains 
For  one  revolving  year  thy  dwelling  fix, 

And  give  the  place  thy  name  :  that  honour  share 
With  Azan  and  with  Areas.  Pass  from  thence 
To  Athens;  there  against  the  Furies  urge  1695 
Thy  plea ;  acquit  thee  of  thy  mother’s  blood  : 
There,  in  that  awful  court,  the  gods  shall  sit 
Thy  judges,  and  thy  just  cause  shall  prevail. 


212 


EURIPIDES. 


Her,  at  whose  throat  thy  angry  sword  was  pointed, 
The  gods  decree  thy  wife  :  though  Pyrrhus  dreams 
Of  nuptial  joys,  the  Delphic  sword  awaits  him ;  1701 
My  vengeance  to  Achilles  this  demands. 

To  Pylades  thy  sister  is  betrothed  ; 

Give  him  his  bride  :  and  happiness  attends 
To  pour  her  blessings  on  their  future  years.  1705 
Thou,  Menelaus,  yield  that  Orestes  reign 
At  Argos  :  haste  to  Sparta ;  reign  thou  there, 

And  wear  that  crown,  the  dowry  of  thy  wife, 

The  well-earn’d  meed  of  all  the  toils  she  caused 
thee. 

It  shall  be  mine  to  appease  the  state  to  him,  1710 
Compell’d  by  my  command  to  slay  his  mother. 

Ores.  Thou  god  of  oracles,  prophet  of  good, 

True  are  thy  words  and  faithful.  Yet  my  soul 
Was  struck  with  horror,  lest  some  vengeful  power 
Spoke  this,  which  I  misdeem’d  thy  voice  divine. 

But  all  is  well.  Obedient  to  thy  word,  1716 

I  drop  the  sword ;  and  if  her  father  gives  her, 

Wish  to  receive  Hermione  my  bride. 

Men.  Daughter  of  Jove,  bright  Helen,  hail !  thy 
state, 

Mid  the  blessed  mansions  of  the  immortal  gods,  1720 
I  reverence.  Now,  Orestes,  give  I  thee 
My  daughter,  at  the  bidding  of  the  god. 

Illustrious  in  thy  race,  thou  takest  a  wife 

Not  less  illustrious  :  blessings  on  thy  hand  1724 

That  takes  her,  and  on  mine  that  gives  her  to  thee ! 

Apol.  Each  now  depart,  as  I  commanded :  cease 
Your  strife. 

Men.  To  obey  is  ours. 

Ores.  Such  are  my  thoughts. 

Now,  Menelaus,  to  all  these  evils  pass’d 
My  soul  speaks  peace,  and  to  thy  oracles. 

Apol.  Go  then  your  ways,  now  go,  and  reverence 
Peace,  1730 

Most  beauteous  of  the  gods.  I  will  conduct 
The  immortal  Helen  to  the  house  of  Jove 


ORESTES. 


213 


O’er  yon  star-spangled  sky,  to  the  bright  seats, 
Where,  with  majestic  Juno,  and  the  bloom 
Of  Hebe  ever  young,  Alcides’  joy,  y  1735 

A  goddess  she  shall  hear  the  vows  of  mortals  : 

And,  honour’d  with  the  twin-born  sons  of  Jove, 
Guide  the  toss’d  mariners,  and  rule  the  sea. 

Cho.  0  Victory,  I  revere  thy  sober  triumphs : 
Thus  ever  guard,  thus  ever  crown  my  life ! 


r 


V 


■  ■■■  ■•  .  '■ 

- 


A 


a 


’■  • 


IPHIGENI A  IN  TAURIS. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS. 


Iphigenia. 

Orestes. 

Pyi.ades. 

'  Thoas. 

Herdsman. 

Messenger. 

Minerva. 

Chorus  of  Grecian  women,  captives,  at 
tendants  on  Iphigenia  in  the  temple. 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  reader,  in  this  play,  will  renew  his  acquaintance  with  the 
amiable  but  unhappy  Iphigenia,  from  the  altar  at  Aulis  she 
is  here  represented  as  removed  by  Diana  to  her  temple  in  the 
Tauric  Chersonese,  where  she  is  reluctantly  compelled  to 
preside  as  priestess  over  the  cruel  and  bloody  rites  there  estab¬ 
lished  by  Thoas,  the  king  of  that  country,  who  is  accustomed 
to  sacrifice  all  strangers,  on  their  arrival  in  his  dominions-. 
Orestes  and  his  friend  Pylades  land  on  this  inhospitable  coast, 
to  obtain  possession  of  the  statue  of  Diana,  in  obedience  to  the 
oracle  of  Apollo :  they  are  seized,  and  carried  to  the  king, 
who  sends  them  in  chains  to  the  priestess  as  victims  to.  the 
goddess :  their  death,  which  seems  inevitable,  is  prevented  by 
the  recognition  of  Orestes  and  his  sister.  Iphigenia  now  con¬ 
spires  with  the  two  friends  to  escape  from  this  barbarous 
country,  and  to  convey  the  divine  statue  to  Athens which . 
design  is  happily  effected  ;  while  the  rage  of  Thoas  against 
the  accomplices  of  their  flight,  and  his  eagerness  of  pursuit, 
are  effectually  restrained  by  the  appearance  of  Minerva,  who 
makes  known  to  him  the  future  destinies  of  the  fugitives.-r— 
[The  scene  is  in  the  court  of  the  temple  of  Diana.] 


IPHIGENIA. 

To  Pisa,  by  the  fleetest  coursers  borne, 

Comes  Pelops,  son  of  Tantalus,  and  weds 
The  virgin  daughter  of  CEnomaus : 

From  her  sprung  Atreus  ;  Menelaus  from  him,. 

And  Agamemnon ;  I  from  him  derive  5 

My  birth,  his  Iphigenia,  by  his  queen, 

Daughter  of  Tyndarus.  Where  frequent  winds 
Swell  the  vex’d  Euripus  with  eddying  blasts, 

And  roll  the  darkening  waves,  my  father  slew  me, 

A  victim  to  Diana,  so  he  thought,  10 

Eurip.  Vol.  III. — T 


218 


EURIPIDES. 


For  Helen’s  sake,  its  bay  where  Aulis  winds, 

To  fame  well  known ;  for  there  his  thousand  ships. 
The  armament  of  Greece,  the  imperial  chief 
Convened,  desirous  that  his  Greeks  should  snatch 
The  glorious  crown  of  victory  from  Troy,  1ft 

And  punish  the  base  insult  to  the  bed 
Of  Helen,  vengeance  grateful  to  the  soul 
Of  Menelaus.  But  ’gainst  his  ships  the  sea 
Long  barr’d,  and  not  one  favouring  breeze  to  swell 
His  flagging  sails,  the  hallow’d  flames  the  chief  21 
Consults,  and  Calchas  thus  disclosed  the  fates  : — 

“  Imperial  leader  of  the  Grecian  host, 

Hence  shalt  thou  not  unmoor  thy  vessels,  ere 
Diana  as  a  victim  shall  receive 
Thy  daughter  Iphigenia :  what  the  year  25 

Most  beauteous  should  produce,  thou  to  the  queen 
Dispensing  light  didst  vow  to  sacrifice  : 

A  daughter  Clytemnestra  in  thy  house 
Then  bore  (the  peerless  grace  of  beauty  thus 
To  me  assigning) ;  her  must  thou  devote  30 

The  victim.”  Then  Ulysses  by  his  arts, 

Me,  to  Achilles  as  design’d  a  bride, 

Won  from  my  mother.  My  unhappy  fate 

To  Aulis  brought  me  ;  on  the  altar  there 

High  was  I  placed,  and  o’er  me  gleam’d  the  sword, 

Aiming  the  fatal  wound  :  but  from  the  stroke  36 

Diana  snatch’d  me,  in  exchange  a  hind 

Giving  the  Grecians ;  through  the  lucid  air 

Me  she  conveyed  to  Tauris,  here  to  dwell, 

Where  o’er  barbarians  a  barbaric  king  40 

Holds  his  rude  sway,  named  Thoas,  whose  swift 
foot 

Equals  the  rapid  wing :  me  he  appoints 

The  priestess  of  this  temple,  where  such  rites 

Are  pleasing  to  Diana,  that  the  name 

Alone  claims  honour;  for  I  sacrifice  45 

(Such,  ere  I  came,  the  custom  of  the  state) 

Whatever  Grecian  to  this  savage  shore 

Is  driven:  the  previous  rites  are  mine ;  the  deed 


IPH1GENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


219 


Of  blood,  too  horrid  to  be  told,  devolves 

On  others  in  the  temple :  but  the  rest,  50 

In  reverence  to  the  goddess,  I  forbear. 

But  the  strange  visions  which  the  night  now  past 
Brought  with  it,  to  the  air,  if  that  may  sooth 
My  troubled  thought,  I  will  relate.  I  seem’d, 

As  I  lay  sleeping,  from  this  land  removed,  55 

To  dwell  at  Argos,  resting  on  my  couch 
Mid  the  apartments  of  the  virgin  train. 

Sudden  the  firm  earth  shook :  I  fled,  and  stood 
Without;  the  battlements  I  saw,  and  all 
The  rocking  roof  fall  from  its  lofty  height  60 

In  ruins  to  the  ground :  of  all  the  house, 

My  father’s  house,  one  pillar,  as  I  thought, 

Alone  was  left,  which  from  its  cornice  waved 
A  length  of  auburn  locks,  and  human  voice 
Assumed:  the  bloody  office,  which  is  mine  65 
To  strangers  here,  respecting,  I  to  death. 
Sprinkling  the  lustral  drops,  devoted  it 
With  many  tears.  My  dream  I  thus  expound : — 
Orestes,  whom  I  hallow’d  by  my  rites, 

Is  dead :  for  sons  are  pillars  of  the  house ;  70 

They,  whom  my  lustral  lavers  sprinkle,  die 
I  cannot  to  my  friends  apply  my  dream. 

For  Strophius,  when  I  perish’d,  had  no  son. 

Now,  to  my  brother,  absent  though  he  be, 

Libations  will  I  offer :  this,  at  least,  75 

With  the  attendants  given  me  by  the  king, 

Virgins  of  Greece,  I  can  :  but  what  the  cause 
They  yet  attend  me  not  within  the  house, 

The  temple  of  the  goddess,  where  I  dwell ! 

ORESTES,  PYLADES. 

Ores.  Keep  careful  watch,  lest  some  one  come 
this  way.  80 

Pyl.  I  watch,  and  turn  mine  eye  to  every  part. 

Ores.  And  dost  thou,  Pylades,  imagine  this 
The  temple  of  the  goddess,  which  we  seek, 

Our  sails  from  Argos  sweeping  o’er  the  main  ?  84 


220 


EURIPIDES. 


Pyl.  Orestes,  such  my  thought,  and  must  be  thine. 

Ores.  And  this  the  altar  wet  with  Grecian  blood  1 

Pyl.  Grimson’d  with  gore  behold  its  sculptured 
wreaths. 

Ores.  See,  from  the  battlements  what  trophies 
hang ! 

Pyl.  The  spoils  of  strangers  that  have  here  been 
slain.  89 

Ores.  Behooves  us  then  to  watch  with  careful  eye. 
O  Phoebus,  by  thy  oracles  again 
Why  hast  thou  led  me  to  these  toils  1  E’er  since, 
In  vengeance  for  my  father’s  blood,  I  slew 
My  mother,  ceaseless  by  the  Furies  driven, 

Vagrant,  an  outcast,  many  a  bending  course  95 
My  feet  have  trod :  to  thee  I  came,  of  thee 
Inquired  this  whirling  phrensy  by  what  means, 

And  by  what  means  my  labours  I  might  end. 

Thy  voice  commanded  me  to  speed  my  course 
To  this  wild  coast  of  Tauris,  where  a  shrine  100 
Thy  sister  hath,  Diana ;  thence  to  take 
The  statue  of  the  goddess,  which  from  heaven 
(So  say  the  natives)  to  this  temple  fell: 

This  image,  or  by  fraud  or  fortune  won, 

The  dangerous  toil  achieved,  to  place  the  prize  105 
In  the  Athenian  land  :  no  more  was  said  ; 

But  that,  performing  this,  I  should  obtain 
Rest  from  my  toils.  Obedient  to  thy  words, 

On  this  unknown,  inhospitable  coast 

Am  I  arrived.  Now,  Pylades  (for  thou  110 

Art  my  associate  in  this  dangerous  task), 

Of  thee  I  ask,  WThat  shall  we  do  1  for  high 
The  walls,  thou  seest,  which  fence  the  temple  round. 
Shall  we  ascend  their  height  1  But  how  escape 
Observing  eyes  1  Or  burst  the  brazen  bars  1  115 

Of  these  we  nothing  know  :  in  the  attempt 
To  force  the  gates,  or  meditating  means 
To  enter,  if  detected,  we  shall  die. 

Shall  we  then,  ere  we  die,  by  flight  regain 

The  ship  in  which  we  hither  plough’d  the  seal  120 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS.  221 

Pyl.  Of  flight  we  brook  no  thought,  nor  such 
hath  been 

Our  wont ;  nor  may  the  god’s  commanding  voice 
Be  disobey’d  ;  but  from  the  temple  now 
Retiring,  in  some  cave,  which  the  black  sea 
Beats  with  its  billows,  we  may  lie  conceal’d  125 
At  distance  from  our  bark,  lest  some,  whose  eyes 
May  note  it,  bear  the  tidings  to  the  king, 

And  we  be  seized  by  force.  But  when  the  eye 
Of  night  comes  darkling  on,  then  must  we  dare, 
And  take  the  polish’d  image  from  the  shrine,  130 
Attempting  all  things :  and  the  vacant  space 
Between  the  triglyphs  (mark  it  well)  enough 
Is  open  to  admit  us ;  by  that  way 
Attempt  we  to  descend:  in  toils  the  brave 
Are  daring ;  of  no  worth  the  abject  soul.  135 

Ores.  This  length  of  sea  we  plough’d  not,  from 
this  coast, 

Nothing  effected,  to  return  :  but  well 
Hast  thou  advised  ;  the  god  must  be  obey’d. 

Retire  we  then  where  we  may  lie  conceal’d ; 

For  never  from  the  god  will  come  the  cause,  140 
That  what  his  sacred  voice  commands  should  fall 
Effectless.  We  must  dare.  No  toil  to  youth 
Excuse,  which  justifies  inaction,  brings. 

IPHIGENIA,  CHORUS. 

IPHIGENIA. 

You,  who  your  savage  dwellings  hold 

Nigh  this  inhospitable  main,  145 

’Gainst  clashing  rocks  with  fury  roll’d, 

From  all  but  hallow’d  words  abstain. 

Virgin  queen,  Latona’s  grace, 

Joying  in  the  mountain  chase. 

To  thy  court,  thy  rich  domain,  150 

To  thy  beauteous-pillar’d  fane 
Where  our  wondering  eyes  behold 
Battlements  that  blaze  with  gold, 


t 


222 


EURIPIDES. 


Thus  my  virgin  steps  I  bend, 

Holy,  the  holy  to  attend  ;  155 

Servant,  virgin  queen,  to  thee  ; 

Power,  who  bear’st  life’s  golden  key, 

Far  from  Greece  for  steeds  renown’d, 

From  her  walls  with  towers  crown’d. 

From  the  beauteous-planted  meads  160 

Where  his  train  Eurotas  leads, 

Visiting  the  loved  retreats, 

Once  my  father’s  royal  seats. 

CHORUS. 

I  come.  What  cares  disturb  thy  rest  ? 

Why  hast  thou  brought  me  to  the  shrine  ? 
Doth  some  fresh  grief  afflict  thy  breast  1  166 

Why  bring  me  to  this  seat  divine  1 
Thou  daughter  of  that  chief,  whose  powers 
Plough’d  with  a  thousand  keels  the  strand, 
And  ranged  in  arms  shook  Troy’s  proud  towers 
Beneath  the  Atridae’s  great  command  !  171 

IPHIGENIA. 

O  ye  attendant  train, 

How  is  my  heart  oppress’d  with  wo ! 

What  notes,  save  notes  of  grief,  can  flow, 

A  harsh  and  unmelodious  strain  ?  175 

My  soul  domestic  ills  oppress  with  dread, 

And  bid  me  mourn  a  brother  dead. 

What  visions  did  my  sleeping  sense  appal 
In  the  past  dark  and  midnight  hour  1 

’Tis  ruin,  ruin  all.  180 

My  father’s  house, — it  is  no  more  : 

No  more  is  his  illustrious  line. 

What  dreadful  deeds  hath  Argos  known ! 

One  only  brother,  Fate,  was  mine  ; 

And  dost  thou  rend  him  from  me  ?  Is  he  gone 
To  Pluto’s  dreary  realms  below  1  186 

For  him,  as  dead,  with  pious  care 
This  goblet  I  prepare  ; 

And  on  the  bosom  of  the  earth  shall  flow 
Streams  from  the  heifer  mountain-bred,  190 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS.  223 

The  grapes  rich  juice,  and,  mix’d  with  these, 
The  labour  of  the  yellow  bees, 

Libations  soothing  to  the  dead. 

Give  me  the  oblation :  let  me  hold 

The  foaming  goblet’s  hallow’d  gold.  195 

O  thou,  the  earth  beneath, 

,  Who  didst  from  Agamemnon  spring ; 

To  thee,  deprived  of  vital  breath, 

I  these  libations  bring. 

Accept  them :  to  thy  honour’d  tomb,  200 

Never,  ah !  never  shall  1  come ; 

Never  these  golden  tresses  bear, 

To  place  them  there,  there  shed  the  tear; 

For  from  my  country  far,  a  hind  204 

There  deem’d  as  slain,  my  wild  abode  I  find. 

CHORUS. 

To  thee  thy  faithful  train 
The  Asiatic  hymn  will  raise, 

A  doleful,  a  barbaric  strain, 

Responsive  to  thy  lays, 

And  steep  in  tears  the  mournful  song, —  210 

Notes,  which  to  the  dead  belong  ; 

Dismal  notes,  attuned  to  wo 
By  Pluto  in  the  realms  below  : 

No  sprightly  air  shall  we  employ  214 

To  cheer  the  soul,  and  wake  the  sense  of  joy. 

IPHIGENIA. 

The  Atridae  are  no  more  ; 

Extinct  their  sceptre’s  golden  light ; 

My  father’s  house  from  its  proud  height 
Is  fallen  .*  its  ruins  I  deplore. 

Who  of  her  kings  at  Argos  holds  his  reign,  220 
Her  kings  once  bless’d  ?  But  Sorrow’s  train 
Rolls  on  impetuous  for  the  rapid  steeds 
Which  o’er  the  strand  with  Pelops  fly. 

From  what  atrocious  deeds 

Starts  the  sun  back,  his  sacred  eye 


225 


224 


EURIPIDES. 

Of  brightness,  loathing,  turn’d  aside  ? 

And  fatal  to  their  house  arose, 

From  the  rich  ram,  Thessalia’s  golden  pride, 
Slaughter  on  slaughter,  woes  on  woes  : 
Thence,  from  the  dead  ages  past,  230 

Vengeance  came  rushing  on  its  prey, 

And  swept  the  race  of  Tantalus  away. 

Fatal  to  thee  its  ruthless  haste ; 

To  me  too  fatal,  from  the  hour 
My  mother  wedded,  from  the  night  235 

She  gave  me  to  life’s  opening  light, 

Nursed  by  affliction’s  cruel  power. 

Early  to  me,  the  Fates  unkind, 

To  know  what  sorrow  is  assign’d  : 

Me  Leda’s  daughter,  hapless  dame,  240 

First  blooming  offspring  of  her  bed 
(A  father’s  conduct  here  I  blame), 

A  joyless  victim  bred  ; 

When  o’er  the  strand  of  Aulis,  in  the  pride 
Of  beauty  kindling  flames  of  love,  245 

High  on  my  splendid  car  I  move, 

Betrothed  to  Thetis’  son  a  bride  : 

Ah,  hapless  bride,  to  all  the  train 
Of  Grecian  fair  preferr’d  in  vain ! 

But  now,  a  stranger  on  this  strand,  250 

’Gainst  which  the  wild  waves  beat, 

I  hold  my  dreary,  joyless  seat, 

Far  distant  from  my  native  land, 

Nor  nuptial  bed  is  mine,  nor  child,  nor  friend. 
At  Argos  now  no  more  I  raise  255 

The  festal  song  in  Juno’s  praise  ; 

Nor  o’er  the  loom  sweet-sounding  bend, 

As  the  creative  shuttle  flies ; 

Give  forms  of  Titans  fierce  to  rise  ; 

And,  dreadful  with  her  purple  spear,  260 

Image  Athenian  Pallas  there : 

But  on  this  barbarous  shore 
The  unhappy  stranger’s  fate  I  moan, 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


225 


The  ruthless  altar  stain’d  with  gore, 

His  deep  and  dying  groan ;  265 

And,  for  each  tear  that  weeps  his  woes, 

From  me  a  tear  of  pity  flows. 

Of  these  the  sad  remembrance  now  must  sleep* 
A  brother  dead,  ah  me !  I  weep: 

At  Argos  him,  by  fate  oppress’d,  270 

I  left  an  infant  at  the  breast, 

A  beauteous  bud,  whose  opening  charms 
Then  blossom’d  in  his  mother’s  arms ; 

Orestes,  born  to  high  command, 

The  imperial  sceptre  of  the  Argive  land.  275 

Cho.  Leaving  the  sea- wash’d  shore  a  herdsman 
comes 

Speeding,  with  some  fresh  tidings  to  thee  fraught. 

HERDSMAN,  IPHIGENIA,  CHORUS. 

Herds.  Daughter  of  Agamemnon,  and  bright  gem 
Of  Clytemnestra,  hear  strange  things  from  me. 

Iph.  And  what  of  terror  doth  thy  tale  import  !  280 
Herds.  Two  youths,  swift-rowing  ’twixt  the  clash¬ 
ing  rocks 

Of  our  wild  sea,  are  landed  on  the  beach, 

A  grateful  offering  at  Diana’s  shrine, 

And  victims  to  the  goddess.  Haste,  prepare 
The  sacred  lavers,  and  the  previous  rites.  285 
Iph.  Whence  are  the  strangers!  from  what  coun¬ 
try  named ! 

Herds.  From  Greece  :  this  only,  nothing  more,  I 
know. 

Iph.  Didst  thou  not  hear  what  names  the  strangers 
bear! 

Herds.  One  by  the  other  was  call’d  Pylades.  289 
Iph.  How  is  the  stranger,  his  companion,  named  ? 
Herds.  This  none  of  us  can  tell :  we  heard  it  not. 
Iph.  How  saw  you  them !  how  seized  them  !  by 
what  chance ! 

Herds.  Mid  the  rude  cliffs  that  o’er  the  Euxine 
hang— 


226 


EURIPIDES. 


Iph.  And  what  concern  have  herdsman  with  the 
sea? 

Herds.  To  wash  our  herds  in  the  salt  wave  we 
came.  295 

‘  Iph.  To  what  I  ask’d  return:  how  seized  you 
them  ? 

Tell  me  the  manner  ;  this  I  wish  to  know  : 

For  slow  the  victims  come,  nor  hath  some  while 
The  altar  of  the  goddess,  as  was  wont,  299 

Been  crimson’d  with  the  streams  of  Grecian  blood. 

Herds.  Our  herds,  which  in  the  forest  feed,  we 
drove 

Amid  the  tide  that  rushes  to  the  shore, 

’Twixt  the  Symplegades  :  it  was  the  place, 

Where  in  the  rifted  rock  the  chafing  surge 
Hath  hallow’d  a  rude  cave,  the  haunt  of  those  305 
Whose  quest  is  purple.  Of  our  number  there 
A  herdsman  saw  two  youths,  and  back  return’d 
With  soft  and  silent  step;  then  pointing,  said, 

“  Do  you  not  see  them  ?  These  are  deities 
That  sit  there.”  One,  who  with. religious  awe  310 
Revered  the  gods,  with  hands  uplifted  pray’d, 

His  eyes  fix’d  on  them, — “  Son  of  the  sea-nymph 
Leucothoe,  guardian  of  the  labouring  bark, 

Our  lord  Palaemon,  be  propitious  to  us  ! 

Or  sit  you  on  our  shores,  bright  sons  of  Jove,  315 
Castor  and  Pollux  1  Or  the  glorious  boast 
Of  Nereus,  father  of  the  noble  choir 
Of  fifty  Nereids  ?”  One,  whose  untaught  mind 
Audacious  folly  harden’d  ’gainst  the  sense 
Of  holy  awe,  scoff’d  at  his  prayers,  and  said, —  320 
“  These  are  wreck’d  mariners,  that  take  their  seat 
In  the  cleft  rock  through  fear,  as  they  have  heard 
Our  prescribed  rite,  that  here  we  sacrifice 
The  stranger.”  To  the  greater  part  he  seem’d 
Well  to  have  spoken,  and  we  judged  it  meet  325 
To  seize  the  victims,  by  our  country’s  law 

298  This  is  said  to  prevent  suspicion  :  her  former  quickness  to 
the  herdsman  might,  she  feared,  discover  her  abhorrence  of  the 
rites. 


3PHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


227 


Due  to  the  goddess.  Of  the  stranger  youths, 

One  at  this  instant  started  from  the  rock : 

Awhile  he  stood,  and  wildly  toss’d  his  head, 

And  groan’d,  his  loose  arms  trembling  all  their 
length,  330 

Convulsed  with  madness;  and  a  hunter  loud 
Then  cried, — “  Dost  thou  behold  her,  Pylades  1 
Dost  thou  not  see  this  dragon  fierce  from  hell 
Rushing  to  kill  me,  and  against  me  rousing 
Her  horrid  vipers'?  See  this  other  here,  335 

Emitting  fire  and  slaughter  from  her  vests, 

Sails  on  her  wings,  my  mother  in  her  arms 
Bearing,  to  hurl  this  mass  of  rock  upon  me  ! 

Ah,  she  will  kill  me  !  Whither  shall  I  fly  1” 

His  visage  might  we  see  no  more  the  same,  340 
And  his  voice  varied ;  now  the  roar  of  bulls, 

The  howl  of  dogs  now  uttering,  mimic  sounds 
Sent  by  the  maddening  Furies,  as  they  say. 
Together  thronging,  as  of  death  assured, 

We  sit  in  silence  ;  but  he  drew  his  sword,  345 
And,  like  a  lion  rushing  mid  our  herds, 

Plunged  in  their  sides  the  weapon,  weening  thus 
To  drive  the  Furies,  till  the  briny  wave 
Foam’d  with  their  blood.  But  when  among  our 
herds 

We  saw  this  havoc  made,  we  all  ’gan  rouse  350 
To  arms,  and  blew  our  sounding  shells  to  alarm 
The  neighbouring  peasants  ;  for  we  thought  in  fight 
Rude  herdsmen  to  these  youthful  strangers,  train’d 
To  arms,  ill  match’d ;  and  forthwith  to  our  aid 
Flock’d  numbers.  But,  his  phrensy  of  its  force  355 
Abating,  on  the  earth  the  stranger  falls, 

Foam  bursting  from  his  mouth :  but  when  he  saw 
The  advantage,  each  adventured  on  and  hurl’d 
What  might  annoy  him  fallen :  the  other  youth 
Wiped  off  the  foam,  took  of  his  person  care,  360 
His  fine-wrought  robe  spread  over  him  ;  with  heed 
The  flying  stones  observing,  warded  off 
The  wounds,  and  each  kind  office  to  his  friend 


228 


EURIPIDES. 


Attentively  perform’d.  His  sense  return’d ; 

The  stranger  started  up,  and  soon  perceived  365 
The  tide  of  foes  that  roll’d  impetuous  on, 

The  danger  and  distress  that  closed  them  round. 

He  heaved  a  sigh ;  an  unremitting  storm 
Of  stones  we  pour’d,  and  each  incited  each : 

Then  we  his  dreadful  exhortation  heard  : —  370 

“  Pylades,  we  shall  die ;  but  let  us  die 
With  glory :  draw  thy  sword,  and  follow  me. 

But  when  we  saw  the  enemies  advance 
With  brandish’d  swords,  the  steep  heights  crown’d 
with  wood 

We  fill  in  flight :  but  others,  if  one  flies,  375 

Press  on  them  ;  if  again  they  drive  these  back, 
What  before  fled  turns,  with  a  storm  of  stones 
Assaulting  them  ;  but,  what  exceeds  belief, 

Hurl’d  by  a  thousand  hands,  not  one  could  hit 
The  victims  of  the  goddess  :  scarce  at  length,  380 
Not  by  brave  daring  seized  we  them,  but  round 
We  closed  upon  them,  and  their  swords  with  stones 
Beat,  wily,  from  their  hands  ;  for  on  their  knees 
They  through  fatigue  had  sunk  upon  the  ground : 
We  bare  them  to  the  monarch  of  this  land  :  385 

He  view’d  them,  and  without  delay  to  thee 
Sent  them  devoted  to  the  cleansing  vase, 

And  to  the  altar.  Victims  such  as  these, 

O  virgin,  wish  to  find  ;  for  if  such  youths 

Thou  offer,  for  thy  slaughter  Greece  will  pay,  390 

Her  wrongs  to  thee  at  Aulis  well  avenged. 

Cho.  These  things  are  wonderful,  which  thou  hast 
told 

Of  him,  whoe’er  he  be,  the  youth  from  Greece 
Arrived  on  this  inhospitable  shore. 

Iph.  ’Tis  well :  go  thou,  and  bring  the  strangers 
hither :  395 

What  here  is  to  be  done  shall  be  our  care. 

O  my  unhappy  heart !  before  this  hour 
To  strangers  thou  wast  gentle,  always  touch’d 
With  pity,  and  with  tears  their  tears  repaid, 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TATIRIS. 


229 


When  Grecians,  natives  of  my  country,  came  400 
Into  my  hands  :  but  from  the  dreams,  which  prompt 
To  deeds  ungentle,  showing  that  no  more 
Orestes  views  the  sun’s  fair  light,  whoe’er 
Ye  are  that  hither  come,  me  will  you  find 
Relentless  now.  This  is  the  truth,  my  friends :  405 
My  heart  is  rent ;  and  never  will  the  wretch, 

Who  feels  affliction’s  cruel  tortures,  bear 
Good-will  to  those  that  are  more  fortunate. 

Never  came  gale  from  Jove,  nor  flying  bark, 

Which  ’twixt  the  dangerous  rocks  of  the  Euxine  sea 
Brought  Helen  hither,  who  my  ruin  wrought,  411 
Nor  Menelaus  ;  that  on  them  my  foul  wrongs 
I  might  repay,  and  with  an  Aulis  here 
Requite  the  Aulis  there,  where  I  was  seized, 

And,  as  a  heifer,  by  the  Grecians  slain  :  415 

My  father  too,  who  gave  me  birth,  was  priest. 

Ah  me  !  the  sad  remembrance  of  those  ills 
Yet  lives  :  how  often  did  I  stroke  thy  cheek, 

And,  hanging  on  thy  knees,  address  thee  thus  : — 

“  Alas,  my  father !  I  by  thee  am  led  420 

A  bride  to  bridal  rites  unbless’d  and  base  : 

Them,  while  by  thee  I  bleed,  my  mother  hymns, 
And  the  Argive  dames,  with  hymeneal  strains, 

And  with  the  jocund  pipe  the  house  resounds : 

But  at  the  altar  I  by  thee  am  slain  ;  425 

For  Pluto  was  the  Achilles,  not  the  son 
Of  Peleus,  whom  to  me  thou  didst  announce 
The  affianced  bridegroom,  and  by  guile  didst  bring 
To  bloody  nuptials  in  the  rolling  car.” 

But,  o’er  mine  eyes  the  veil’s  fine  texture  spread,  430 
This  brother  in  my  hands  who  now  is  lost, 

I  clasp’d  not,  though  his  sister  ;  did  not  press 
My  lips  to  his,  through  virgin  modesty, 

As  going  to  the  house  of  Peleus  :  then 

Each  fond  embrace  I  to  another  time  435 

Deferr’d,  as  soon  to  Argos  to  return. 

If,  O  unhappy  brother,  thou  art  dead, 

From  what  a  state,  thy  father’s  envied  height 
Eurip.  Vol.  III. — U 


230 


EURIPIDES* 


Of  glory,  loved  Orestes,  art  thou  torn  !— » 

These  false  rules  of  the  goddess  much  1  blame :  440 
Whoe’er  of  mortals  is  with  slaughter  stain’d, 

Or  hath  at  childbirth  given  assisting  hands, 

Or  chanced  to  touch  aught  dead,  she  as  impure 
Drives  from  her  altars  ;  yet  herself  delights 
In  human  victims  bleeding  at  her  shrine.  445 

Ne’er  did  Latona  from  the  embrace  of  Jove 
Bring  forth  such  inconsistence  :  I  then  deem 
The  feast  of  Tantalus,  where  gods  were  guests, 
Unworthy  of  belief,  as  that  they  fed 
On  his  son’s  flesh  delighted  ;  and  I  think  450 

These  people,  who  themselves  have  a  wild  joy 
In  shedding  human  blood,  their  savage  guilt 
Charge  on  the  goddess  :  for  this  truth  I  hold  ; 

None  of  the  gods  is  evil,  or  doth  wrong. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I* 

Ye  rocks,  ye  clashing  rocks,  whose  brow  455 
Frowns  o’er  the  darken’d  deeps  below  ; 

Whose  wild,  inhospitable  wave, 

From  Argos  flying  and  her  native  spring, 

The  virgin  once  was  known  to  brave, 
Tormented  with  the  brize’s  maddening  sting,  460 
From  Europe  when  the  rude  sea  o’er 
She  pass’d  to  Asia’s  adverse  shore ; 

Wlio  are  these  hapless  youths,  that  dare  to  land, 
Leaving  those  soft,  irriguous  meads, 

Where,  his  green  margin  fringed  with  reeds,  465 
Eurotas  rolls  his  ample  tide, 

Or  Dirce’s  hallow’d  waters  glide, 

And  touch  this  barbarous,  stranger-hating  strand, 
The  altars  where  a  virgin  dews, 

And  blood  the  pillar’d  shrine  imbrues  1  470 

STROPHE  II. 

Did  they  with  oars  impetuous  sweep 
(Rank  answering  rank)  the  foamy  deep, 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


231 


And  wing  their  bark  with  flying  sails, 

To  raise  their  humble  fortune  their  desire  ; 

Eager  to  catch  the  rising  gales,  475 

Their  bosoms  with  the  love  of  gain  on  fire  1 
For  sweet  is  hope  to  man’s  fond  breast ; 

The  hope  of  gain,  insatiate  guest, 

Though  on  her  oft  attends  Misfortune’s  train ; 

For  daring  man  she  tempts  to  brave  480 

The  dangers  of  the  boisterous  wave, 

And  leads  him  heedless  of  his  fate 
Through  many  a  distant  barbarous  state. 

Vain  his  opinions,  his  pursuits  are  vain  ! 

Boundless  o’er  some  her  power  is  shown,  485 
But  some  her  temperate  influence  own. 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

How  did  they  pass  the  dangerous  rocks 
Clashing  with  rude,  tremendous  shocks  1 
How  pass  the  savage-howling  shore, 

Where  once  the  unhappy  Phineus  held  his  reign,  490 
And  sleep  affrighted  flies  its  roar, 

Steering  their  rough  course  o’er  this  boisterous 
main, 

Form’d  in  a  ring,  beneath  whose  waves 
The  Nereid  train  in  high  arch’d  caves 
Weave  the  light  dance,  and  raise  the  sprightly  song ; 
While,  whispering  in  their  swelling  sails,  496 
Soft  Zephyrs  breathe,  or  southern  gales 
Piping  amid  their  tackling  play, 

As  their  bark  ploughs  its  watery  way 
Those  hoary  cliffs,  the  haunts  of  birds,  along,  500 
To  that  wild  strand,  the  rapid  race 
Where  once  Achilles  deign’d  to  grace  1 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

O  that  from  Troy  some  chance  would  bear 
Leda’s  loved  daughter,  fatal  fair ! 

500  This  rocky  island,  called  Leucas,  rises  over  against  the 
Tauric  Chersonese.  Achilles  celebrated  some  victory  here 
tvith  festive  games  :  from  him  it  was  named  Achillea. 


232 


EURIPIDES. 


(The  royal  virgin’s  vows  are  mine)  505 

That  her  bright  tresses  roll’d  in  crimson  dew, 

Her  warm  blood  flowing  at  this  shrine 
The  altar  of  the  goddess  might  imbrue  ; 

And  Vengeance,  righteous  to  repay 
Her  former  mischiefs,  seize  her  prey  !  510 

But  with  what  rapture  should  I  hear  his  voice. 

If  one  this  shore  should  reach  from  Greece, 

And  bid  the  toils  of  slavery  cease  ! 

Or  might  I  in  the  hour  of  rest 
With  pleasing  dreams  of  Greece  be  bless’d ;  515 
So  in  my  house,  my  native  land  rejoice  ; 

In  sleep  enjoy  the  pleasing  strain 
For  happiness  restored  again ! 

Iph.  But  the  two  youths,  their  hands  fast  bound  in 
chains, 

The  late-seized  victims  to  the  goddess,  come.  520 
Silence,  my  friends  ;  for,  destined  at  the  shrine 
To  bleed,  the  Grecian  strangers  near  approach  ; 

And  no  false  tidings  did  the  herdsman  bring. 

Cho.  Goddess  revered,  if  grateful  to  thy  soul 
This  state  presents  such  sacrifice,  accept  525 

The  victims,  which  the  custom  of  this  land 
Gives  thee,  but  deem’d  unholy  by  the  Greeks. 

IPHIGENIA,  ORESTES,  PYLADES,  CHORUS. 

Iph.  No  more  ;  that  to  the  goddess  each  due  rite 
Be  well  perform’d  shall  be  my  care.  Unchain 
The  strangers’  hands  ;  that,  hallow’d  as  they  are,  530 
They  may  no  more  be  bound.  Go  you,  prepare 
Within  the  temple  what  the  rites  require. 

Unhappy  youths,  what  mother  brought  you  forth, 
Your  father  who  1  Your  sister,  if  perchance 
Ye  have  a  sister,  of  what  youths  deprived  1  535 

For  brother  she  shall  have  no  more.  Who  knows 
Whom  such  misfortunes  may  attend  1  For  dark 
What  the  gods  will  creeps  on  ;  and  none  can  tell 
The  ills  to  come  :  this  fortune  from  the  sight 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


233 


Obscures.  But,  O  unhappy  strangers,  say,  540 
Whence  came  you  1  Sail’d  you  long  since  for  this 
land  ? 

But  long  will  be  your  absence  from  your  homes, 

For  ever,  in  the  dreary  realms  below. 

Ores.  Lady,  whoe’er  thou  art,  why  for  these 
things 

Dost  thou  lament  1  why  mourn  for  ills,  which  soon 
Will  fall  on  us]  Him  I  esteem  unwise,  546 

Who,  when  he  sees  death  near,  tries  to  o’ercome 
Its  terrors  with  be  wailings,  without  hope 
Of  safety :  ill  he  adds  to  ill,  and  makes 
His  folly  known,  yet  dies.  We  must  give  way  550 
To  fortune  ;  therefore  mourn  not  thou  for  us  : 

We  know,  we  are  acquainted  with  your  rites. 

Iph.  Which  of  you  by  the  name  of  Pylades 
Is  call’d  ?  This  first  it  is  my  wish  to  know. 

Ores.  If  aught  of  pleasure  that  may  give  thee,  he. 
Iph.  A  native  of  what  Grecian  state,  declare.  556 
Ores.  What  profit  knowing  this  wouldst  thou  ob¬ 
tain  ] 

Iph.  And  are  you  brothers,  of  one  mother  born  1 
Ores.  Brothers  by  friendship,  lady,  not  by  birth. 
Iph.  To  thee  what  name  was  by  thy  father  given  ? 
Ores.  With  just  cause  I  Unhappy  might  be  call’d. 
Iph.  I  ask  not  that ;  to  fortune  that  ascribe.  562 
Ores.  Dying  unknown,  rude  scoffs  I  shall  avoid. 
Iph.  Wilt  thou  refuse  1  Why  are  thy  thoughts  so 
high  1 

Ores.  My  body  thou  mayst  kill,  but  not  my 
name.  565 

Iph.  Wilt  thou  not  say  a  native  of  what  state  1 
Ores.  The  question  naught  avails,  since  I  must 
die. 

Iph.  What  hinders  thee  from  granting  me  this 
grace  ] 

Ores.  The  illustrious  Argos  I  my  country  boast. 
Iph.  By  the  gods,  stranger,  is  thy  birth  from 
thence  1  570 

ua 


234 


EURIPIDES. 


Ores.  My  birth  is  from  Mycenae,  once  the  bless’d. 
Iph.  Dost  thou  an  exile  fly,  or  by  what  fate  1 
Ores.  Of  my  free  will,  in  part  not  free,  I  fly. 

Iph.  Wilt  thou  then  tell  me  what  I  wish  to 
know  ?  574 

Ores.  Whate’er  is  foreign  to  my  private  griefs. 
Iph.  To  my  dear  wish  from  Argos  art  thou 
come. 

Ores.  Not  to  my  wish  ;  but  if  to  thine,  enjoy  it. 
Iph.  Troy,  whose  fame  spreads  so  wide,  per¬ 
chance  thou  know’st. 

Ores.  0  that  I  ne’er  had  known  her,  ev’n  in 
dreams !  579 

Iph.  They  say  she  is  no  more,  by  war  destroy’d. 
Ores.  It  is  so  :  you  have  heard  no  false  reports. 
Iph.  Is  Helena  with  Menelaus  return’d  1 
Ores.  She  is ;  and  one  I  love  her  coming  rues. 
Iph.  Where  is  she  1  Me  too  she  of  old  hath 
wrong’d.  584 

Ores.  At  Sparta  with  her  former  lord  she  dwells. 
Iph.  By  Greece,  and  not  by  me  alone  abhorr’d ! 
Ores.  I  from  her  nuptials  have  my  share  of  grief. 
Iph.  And  are  the  Greeks,  as  Fame  reports,  re¬ 
turn’d  1 

Ores.  How  briefly  all  things  dost  thou  ask  at 
once  ! 

Iph.  This  favour,  ere  thou  die,  I  wish  to  obtain. 
Ores.  Ask,  then :  since  such  thy  wish,  I  will  in¬ 
form  thee.  591 

Iph.  Calchas,  a  prophet, — came  he  back  from 
Troy  1 

Ores.  He  perish’d :  at  Mycenae  such  the  fame. 
Iph.  Goddess  revered !  But  doth  Ulysses  live  ? 
Ores.  He  lives,  they  say,  but  is  not  yet  re¬ 
turn’d.  595 

Iph.  Perish  the  wretch,  nor  see  his  country  more  1 
Ores.  Wish  him  not  ill,  for  all  with  him  is  ill. 

Iph.  But  doth  the  son  of  sea-born  Thetis  live  1 


IPH1GENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


235 


Ores.  He  lives  not:  vain  his  nuptial  rites  at 
Aulis.  599 

Iph.  That  all  was  fraud,  as  those  who  felt  it  say. 
Ores.  But  who  art  thou,  inquiring  thus  of  Greece  1 
Iph.  I  am  from  thence,  in  early  youth  undone. 
Ores.  Thou  hast  a  right  to  inquire  what  there 
hath  pass’d. 

Iph.  What  know’st  thou  of  the  chief,  men  call  the 
bless’d  ? 

Ores.  Who!  Of  the  bless’d  was  not  the  chief  I 
knew.  605 

Iph.  The  royal  Agamemnon,  son  of  Atreus. 

Ores.  Of  him  I  know  not,  lady ;  cease  to  ask. 
Iph.  Nay,  by  the  gods,  tell  me,  and  cheer  my 
soul. 

Ores.  He’s  dead,  the  unhappy  chief :  no  single  ill. 
Iph.  Dead  !  By  what  adverse  fate  1  0  wretched 
me !  610 

Ores.  Why  mourn  for  this  1  How  doth  it  touch 
thy  breast  1 

Iph.  The  glories  of  his  former  state  I  mourn. 
Ores.  Dreadfully  murdered  by  a  woman’s  hand. 
Iph.  How  wretched  she  that  slew  him,  he  thus 
slain!  614 

Ores.  Now  then  forbear  :  of  him  inquire  no  more. 
Iph.  This  only :  lives  the  unhappy  monarch’s 
wife  1 

Ores.  She,  lady,  is  no  more,  slain  by  her  son. 
Iph.  Alas,  the  ruin’d  house  !  What  his  intent  1 
Ores.  To  avenge  on  her  his  noble  father  slain. 
Iph.  An  ill,  but  righteous  deed,  how  justly  done  ! 
Ores.  Though  righteous,  by  the  gods  he  is  not 
bless’d.  621 

Iph.  Hath  Agamemnon  other  offspring  left  1 
Ores.  He  left  one  virgin  daughter,  named  Electra. 
Iph.  Of  her  that  died  a  victim  is  aught  said  ?  624 
Ores.  This  only,  dead,  she  sees  the  light  no  more. 
Iph.  Unhappy  she  !  the  father  too  who  slew  her  ! 
Ores.  For  a  bad  woman  she  unseemly  died. 


236 


EURIPIDES. 


Iph.  At  Argos  lives  the  murdered  father’s  son  1 
Ores.  Nowhere  he  lives,  poor  wretch !  and  every¬ 
where. 

Iph.  False  dreams,  farewell ;  for  nothing  you  im¬ 
port.  630 

Ores.  Nor  are  those  gods,  that  have  the  name  of 
wise, 

Less  false  than  fleeting  dreams.  In  things  divine, 
And  in  things  human,  great  confusion  reigns. 

One  thing  is  left ;  that,  not  unwise  of  soul, 

Obedient  to  the  prophet’s  voice  he  perish’d ;  635 

For  that  he  perish’d,  they  who  know  report. 

Cho.  What  shall  we  know,  what  of  our  parents 
know  1 

If  yet  they  live  or  not,  who  can  inform  us  1 

Iph.  Hear  me :  this  converse  prompts  a  thought, 
which  gives 

Promise  of  good,  ye  youths  of  Greece,  to  you,  640 
To  these,  and  me  :  thus  may  it  well  be  done, 

If,  willing  to  my  purpose,  all  assent. 

Wilt  thou,  if  I  shall  save  thee,  go  for  me 
A  messenger  to  Argos,  to  my  friends 
Charged  with  a  letter,  which  a  captive  wrote,  645 
Who  pitied  me,  nor  murderous  thought  my  hand, 
But  that  he  died  beneath  the  law,  these  rites 
The  goddess  deeming  just  1  for  from  that  hour 
I  have  not  found  who  might  to  Argos  bear 
Himself  my  message,  back  with  life  return’d,  650 
Or  send  to  any  of  my  friends  my  letter. 

Thou,  therefore,  since  it  seems  thou  dost  not  bear 
Ill-will  to  me,  and  dost  Mycenae  know, 

And  those  I  wish  to  address,  be  safe,  and  live, 

No  base  reward  for  a  light  letter,  life  655 

Receiving  ;  and  let  him,  since  thus  the  state 
Requires,  without  thee  to  the  goddess  bleed. 

Ores.  Virgin  unknown,  well  hast  thou  said  in  all 
Save  this,  that  to  the  goddess  he  should  bleed 


641  To  these,  i.  e  the  Chorus. 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS. 

A  victim ;  that  were  heavy  grief  indeed. 

I  steer’d  the  vessel  to  these  ills ;  he  sail’d 
Attendant  on  my  toils  :  to  gain  thy  grace  ’ 

By  his  destruction,  and  withdraw  myself 
From  sufferings,  were  unjust :  thus  let  it  be  : 

Give  him  the  letter  ;  to  fulfil  thy  wish, 

To  Argos  he  will  bear  it :  me  let  him 
Who  claims  that  office,  slay :  base  is  his  soul, 

Who  in  calamities  involves  his  friends, 

And  saves  himself ;  this  is  a  friend,  whose  life, 
Dear  to  me  as  my  own,  I  would  preserve.  670 
Iph.  Excellent  spirit !  from  some  noble  root 
It  shows  thee  sprung,  and  to  thy  friends  a  friend 
Sincere ;  of  those  that  share  my  blood  if  one 
Remains,  such  may  he  be  !  for  I  am  not 
Without  a  brother,  strangers,  from  my  sight  675 
Though  distant  now.  Since  then  thy  wish  is  such, 
Him  will  I  send  to  Argos  ;  he  shall  bear 
My  letter  ;  thou  shalt  die  ;  for  this  desire 
Hath  strong  possession  of  thy  noble  soul. 

Ores.  Who  then  shall  do  the  dreadful  deed,  and 
slay  me  1  680 

Iph.  I :  to  atone  the  goddess  is  my  charge. 

Ores.  A  charge  unenvied,  virgin,  and  unbless’d. 
Iph.  Necessity  constrains  :  I  must  obey. 

Ores.  Wilt  thou,  a  woman,  plunge  the  sword  in 
men  ?  684 

Iph.  No  :  but  thy  locks  to  sprinkle  round  is  mine. 
Ores.  Whose  then,  if  I  may  ask,  the  bloody  deed  1 
Iph.  To  some  within  the  temple  this  belongs. 
Ores.  What  tomb  is  destined  to  receive  my  corse  ? 
Iph.  The  hallow’d  fire  within,  and  a  dark  cave. 
Ores.  O,  that  a  sister’s  hand  might  wrap  these 
limbs !  690 

Iph.  Vain  wish,  unhappy  youth,  whoe’er  thou  art, 
Hast  thou  conceived ;  for  from  this  barbarous  land 
Far  is  her  dwelling.  Yet,  of  what  my  power 
Permits  (since  thou  from  Argos  draw’st  thy  birth), 
No  grace  will  I  omit :  for  in  th  tomb  695 


237 

660 

665 


238 


EURIPIDES. 


I  will  place  much  of  ornament,  and  pour 
The  dulcet  labour  of  the  yellow  bee, 

From  mountain  flowers  extracted,  on  thy  pyre. 

But  I  will  go,  and  from  the  temple  bring 
The  letter ;  yet  ’gainst  me  no  hostile  thought  700 
Conceive.  You,  that  attend  here,  guard  them  well, 
But  without  chains.  To  one,  whom  most  I  love 
Of  all  my  friends,  to  Argos  I  shall  send 
Tidings  perchance  unlook’d  for ;  and  this  letter, 
Declaring  those  whom  he  thought  dead  alive,  705 
Shall  bear  him  an  assured  and  solid  joy. 

PYLADES,  ORESTES,  CHORUS. 

Cho.  Thee,  o’er  whose  limbs  the  bloody  drops 
shall  soon 

Be  from  the  lavers  sprinkled,  I  lament. 

Ores.  This  asks  no  pity,  strangers  :  but  farewell. 

Cho.  Thee  for  thy  happy  fate  we  reverence, 
youth,  710 

Who  to  thy  country  shall  again  return. 

Pyl.  To  friends  unwish’d,  who  leave  their  friends 
to  die. 

Cho.  Painful  dismission  !  Which  shall  I  esteem 
Most  lost,  alas,  alas  !  which  most  undone  1 
For  doubts  my  wavering  judgment  yet  divide,  715 
If  chief  for  thee  my  sighs  should  swell,  or  thee. 

Ores.  By  the  gods,  Pylades,  is  thy  mind  touch’d 
In  manner  like  as  mine  1 

Pyl.  I  cannot  tell ; 

Nor  to  thy  question  have  I  to  reply. 

Ores.  Who  is  this  virgin?  With  what  zeal  for 
Greece  720 

Made  she  inquiries  of  us  what  the  toils 
At  Troy,  if  yet  the  Grecians  were  return’d, 

And  Calchas,  from  the  flight  of  birds  who  form’d 
Presages  of  the  future.  And  she  named 
Achilles  :  with  what  tenderness  bewail’d  725 

The  unhappy  Agamemnon  !  Of  his  wife 
She  ask’d  me, — of  his  children :  thence  her  race 


IPHIOtfNTA  IN  TAURtS. 


239 


This  unknown  virgin  draws,  an  Argive  ;  else 
Ne’er  would  she  send  this  letter,  nor  have  wish’d 
To  know  these  things,  as  if  she  bore  a  share  730 
(If  Argos  flourish)  in  its  prosperous  state. 

Pyl.  Such  were  my  thoughts  (but  thou  hast  given 
them  words, 

Preventing  me)  of  every  circumstance, 

Save  one :  the  fate  of  kings  all  know,  whose  state 
Holds  aught  of  rank.  But  pass  to  other  thoughts. 
Ores.  What !  Share  them  ;  so  thou  best  mayst 
be  inform’d.  ,  736 

Pyl.  That  thou  shouldst  die,  and  I  behold  this 
light, 

Were  base  :  with  thee  I  sail’d,  with  thee  to  die 
Becomes  me  ;  else  shall  I  obtain  the  name 
Of  a  vile  coward  through  the  Argive  state,  740 
And  the  deep  vales  of  Phocis.  Most  will  think 
(For  most  think  ill)  that  by  betraying  thee 
I  saved  myself,  home  to  return  alone  ; 

Or  haply  that  I  slew  thee,  and  thy  death 
Contrived,  that  in  the  ruin  of  thy  house  745 

Thy  empire  I  might  grasp,  to  me  devolved 
As  wedded  to  thy  sister,  now  sole  heir. 

These  things  I  fear,  and  hold  them  infamous. 
Behooves  me  then  with  thee  to  die,  with  thee 
To  bleed  a  victim,  on  the  pyre  with  thine  750 
To  give  my  body  to  the  flames  ;  for  this 
Becomes  me  as  thy  friend,  who  dreads  reproach. 
Ores.  Speak  more  auspicious  words  :  ’tis  mine  to 
bear 

Ills  that  are  mine  ;  and  single  when  the  wo, 

I  would  not  bear  it  double.  What  thou  say’st  755 
Is  vile  and  infamous,  would  light  on  me, 

Should  I  cause  thee  to  die,  who  in  my  toils 
Hast  borne  a  share  :  to  me,  who  from  the  gods 
Suffer  afflictions  which  I  suffer,  death 
Is  not  unwelcome :  thou  art  happy,  thine  760 

An  unpolluted  and  a  prosperous  house  ; 

Mine  impious  and  unbless’d :  if  thou  art  saved, 


240 


EURIPIDES. 


And  from  my  sister  (whom  I  gave  to  thee, 
Betroth’d  thy  bride)  art  bless’d  with  sons,  my  name 
May  yet  remain,  nor  all  my  father’s  house  765 
In  total  ruin  sink.  Go  then,  and  live  : 

Dwell  in  the  mansion  of  thy  ancestors  : 

And  when  thou  comest  to  Greece,  to  Argos  famed 
For  warrior-steeds,  by  this  right  hand  I  charge  thee 
Raise  a  sepulchral  mound,  and  on  it  place  770 
A  monument  to  me  ;  and  to  my  tomb 
Her  tears,  her  tresses  let  my  sister  give  ; 

And  say,  that  by  an  Argive  woman’s  hand 
I  perish’d,  to  the  altars  bloody  rites 
A  hallow’d  victim.  Never  let  thy  soul  775 

Betray  my  sister,  for  thou  seest  her  state, 

Of  friends  how  destitute,  her  father’s  house 
How  desolate.  Farewell.  Of  all  my  friends, 

Thee  have  I  found  most  friendly,  from  my  youth 
Train’d  up  with  me,  in  all  my  sylvan  sports  780 
Thou  dear  associate,  and  through  many  toils 
Thou  faithful  partner  of  my  miseries. 

Me  Phoebus,  though  a  prophet,  hath  deceived, 

And,  meditating  guile,  hath  driven  me  far 

From  Greece,  of  former  oracles  ashamed  ;  785 

To  him  resign’d,  obedient  to  his  words, 

I  slew  my  mother,  and  my  meed  is  death. 

Pyl.  Yes,  I  will  raise  thy  tomb  :  thy  sister’s  bed 
I  never  will  betray,  unhappy  youth, 

For  I  will  hold  thee  dearer  when  thou  art  dead,  790 
Than  while  thou  livest ;  nor  hath  yet  the  voice 
Of  Phoebus  quite  destroy’d  thee,  though  thou  stand 
To  slaughter  nigh  ;  but  sometimes  mighty  woes 
Yield  mighty  changes,  so  when  Fortune  wills. 

Ores.  Forbear :  the  words  of  Phoebus  naught  avail 
me ;  795 

For,  passing  from  the  shrine,  the  virgin  comes. 

IPHIGENIA,  ORESTES,  PYLADES,  CHORUS. 

Iph.  Go  you  awa  ,  and  in  the  shrine  prepare 

[to  the  guards 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


241 


What  those,  who  o’er  the  rites  preside,  require. 
Here,  strangers,  is  the  letter  folded  close : 

What  I  would  further,  hear.  The  mind  of  mail  800 
In  dangers,  and  again,  from  fear  relieved, 

Of  safety  when  assured,  is  not  the  same  : 

I  therefore  fear  lest  he,  who  should  convey 

To  Argos  this  epistle,  when  return’d 

Safe  to  his  native  country,  will  neglect  805 

My  letter,  as  a  thing  of  little  worth. 

Ores.  What  wouldst  thou  then?  What  is  thy 
anxious  thought  1 

Iph.  This  :  let  him  give  an  oath  that  he  will  bear 
To  Argos  this  epistle  to  those  friends, 

To  whom  it  is  my  ardent  wish  to  send  it.  810 
Ores.  And  wilt  thou  in  return  give  him  thy  oath  ? 
Iph.  That  I  will  do,  or  will  not  do,  say  what. 
Ores.  To  send  him  from  this  barbarous  shore 
4  alive. 

Iph.  That’s  just :  how  should  he  bear  my  letter 
else  ? 

Ores.  But  will  the  monarch  to  these  things  assent  ? 
Iph.  By  me  induced.  Him  I  will  see  embark’d.  816 
Ores.  Swear  then;  and  thou  propose  the  righteous 
*  oath. 

Iph.  This,  let  him  say,  he  to  my  friends  will  give. 
Pyl.  Well,  to  thy  friends  this  letter  I  will  give. 
Iph.  Thee  will  I  send  safe  through  the  darkening 
rocks.  820 

Pyl.  What  god  dost  thou  invoke  to  attest  thy 
oath  ? 

Iph.  Diana,  at  whose  shrine  high  charge  I  hold. 
Pyl.  And  I  heaven’s  potent  king,  the  awful  Jove. 
Iph.  But  if  thou  slight  thy  oath,  and  do  me  wrong  ? 
Pyl.  Never  may  I  return.  But  if  thou  fail,  825 
And  save  me  not  ? 

Iph.  Then  never,  while  I  live, 

May  I  revisit  my  loved  Argos  more  ! 

Pyl.  One  thing,  not  mention’d,  thy  attention 
claims. 

Eurip.  Vol.  III. — X 


242 


EURIPIDES 


Iph.  If  honour  owes  it,  this  will  touch  us  both. 
Pyl.  Let  me  in  this  be  pardon’d,  if  the  bark  830 
Be  lost,  and  with  it  in  the  surging  waves 
Thy  letter  perish,  and  I  naked  gain 
The  shore  ;  no  longer  binding  be  the  oath. 

Iph.  Know’st  thou  what  I  will  do  1  For  various 
ills 

Arise  to  those  that  plough  the  dangerous  deep.  835 
What  in  this  letter  is  contain’d,  what  here 
Is  written,  all  I  will  repeat  to  thee, 

That  thou  mayst  bear  my  message  to  my  friends. 
’Gainst  danger  thus  I  guard  :  if  thou  preserve 
The  letter,  that  though  silent  will  declare  840 

My  purport ;  if  it  perish  in  the  sea, 

Saving  thyself,  my  words  too  thou  wilt  save. 

Pyl.  Well  hast  thou  said  touching  the  gods  and 
me. 

Say  then  to  whom  at  Argos  shall  I  bear 
This  letter  I  What  relate  as  heard  from  thee  1  845 
Iph.  This  message  to  Orestes,  to  the  son 
Of  Agamemnon,  bear: — She,  who  was  slain 
At  Aulis,  Iphigenia,  sends  thee  this  : 

She  lives,  but  not  to  those  who  then  were  there. 
Ores.  Where  is  she  ?  From  the  dead  return’d  to 
life  1  850 

Iph.  She  whom  thou  seest :  but  interrupt  me 
not. 

To  Argos,  O  my  brother,  ere  I  die, 

Bear  me  from  this  barbaric  land,  and  far 
Remove  me  from  this  altar’s  bloody  rites, 

At  which  to  slay  the  stranger  is  my  charge. —  855 
Ores.  What  shall  I  say  I  Where  are  we,  Pylades  ? 
Iph.  Or  on  thy  house  for  vengeance  will  I  call, 
Orestes.  Twice  repeated,  learn  the  name. 

Ores.  Ye  gods! 

Iph.  In  my  cause  why  invoke  the  gods  I 

Ores.  Nothing:  proceed :  my  thoughts  were  wan¬ 
dering  wide  :  860 

Strange  things  of  thee  unask’d  I  soon  shall  learn. 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS.  243 

Iph.  Tell  him  the  goddess  saved  me,  in  exchange 
A  hind  presenting,  which  my  father  slew 
A  victim,  deeming  that  he  plunged  his  sword 
Deep  in  my  breast :  me  in  this  land  she  placed.  865 
Thou  hast  my  charge  :  and  this  my  letter  speaks. 

Pyl.  0,  thou  hast  bound  me  with  an  easy  oath : 
What  I  have  sworn  with  honest  purpose,  long 
Defer  I  not,  but  thus  discharge  mine  oath. 

To  thee  a  letter  from  thy  sister,  lo,  870 

I  bear,  Orestes  ;  and  I  give  it  thee. 

Ores.  I  do  receive  it,  but  forbear  to  unclose 
Its  foldings,  greater  pleasure  first  to  enjoy 
Than  words  can  give.  My  sister,  O  most  dear, 
Astonish’d  ev’n  to  disbelief,  I  throw  875 

Mine  arms  around  thee  with  a  fond  embrace, 

In  transport  at  the  wondrous  things  I  hear. 

Cho.  Stranger,  thou  dost  not  well  with  hands  pro¬ 
fane 

Thus  to  pollute  the  priestess  of  the  shrine, 

Grasping  her  garments  hallow’d  from  the  touch.  880 
Ores.  My  sister,  my  dear  sister,  from  one  sire, 
From  Agamemnon  sprung,  turn  not  away, 

Holding  thy  brother  thus  beyond  all  hope. 

Iph.  My  brother!  Thou  my  brother !  Wilt  thou  not 
Unsay  these  words  1  At  Argos  far  he  dwells.  885 
Ores.  Thy  brother,  0  unhappy  !  is  not  there. 

Iph.  Thee  did  the  Spartan  Tyndarus  bring  forth  ? 
Ores.  And  from  the  son  of  Pelops’  son  I  sprung. 
Iph.  What  say’st  thou?  Canst  thou  give  me  proof 
of  this  1  889 

Ores.  I  can :  ask  something  of  my  father’s 
house. 

Iph.  Nay,  it  is  thine  to  speak,  mine  to  attend. 
Ores.  First  let  me  mention  things  which  I  have 
heard 

Electra  speak  :  to  thee  is  known  the  strife 
Which  fierce  ’twixt  Atreus  and  Thyestes  rose.  894 
Iph.  Yes,  I  have  heard  it ;  for  the  golden  ram, — 


244 


EURIPIDES. 


Ores.  In  the  rich  texture  didst  thou  not  inweave 
it] 

Iph.  O  thou  most  dear !  Thou  windest  near  my 
heart. 

Ores.  And  image  in  the  web  the  averted  sun  ? 

Iph.  In  the  fine  threads  that  figure  did  I  work.  899 

Ores.  For  Aulis  did  thy  mother  bathe  thy  limbs  ] 

Iph.  I  know  it,  to  unlucky  spousals  led. 

Ores.  Why  to  thy  mother  didst  thou  send  thy 
locks  ] 

Iph.  Devoted  for  my  body  to  the  tomb. 

Ores.  What  I  myself  have  seen  I  now  as  proofs 
Will  mention.  In  thy  father’s  house,  hung  high  905 
Within  thy  virgin  chambers,  the  old  spear 
Of  Pelops,  which  he  brandish’d  when  he  slew 
(Enomaus,  and  won  his  beauteous  bride, 

The  virgin  Hippodamia,  Pisa’s  boast. 

Iph.  O  thou  most  dear  (for  thou  art  he),  most  dear 
Acknowleged,  thee,  Orestes,  do  I  hold,  911 

From  Argos,  from  thy  country  distant  far  ? 

Ores.  And  hold  I  thee,  my  sister,  long  deem’d 
dead? 

Grief  mix’d  with  joy,  and  tears,  not  taught  by  wo 
To  rise,  stand  melting  in  thy  eyes  and  mine.  915 

Iph.  Thee  yet  an  infant  in  thy  nurse’s  arms 
I  left,  a  babe  I  left  thee  in  the  house. 

Thou  art  more  happy,  0  my  soul,  than  speech 
Knows  to  express.  What  shall  I  say  1  ’tis  all 
Surpassing  wonder  and  the  power  of  words.  920 

Ores.  May  we  together  from  this  hour  be  bless’d ! 

Iph.  An  unexpected  pleasure,  O  my  friends, 

Have  I  received  ;  yet  fear  I  from  my  hands 
Lest  to  the  air  it  fly.  O  sacred  hearths 
Raised  by  the  Cyclops  !  O  my  country,  loved  925 
Mycenae !  Now  that  thou  didst  give  me  birth, 

I  thank  thee  ;  now  I  thank  thee,  that  my  youth 
Thou  trainedst,  since  my  brother  thou  has  train’d, 

A  beam  of  light,  the  glory  of  his  house. 

Ores.  We  in  our  race  are  happy  ;  but  our  life,  930 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


245 


My  sister,  by  misfortunes  is  unhappy. 

Iph.  I  was,  1  know,  unhappy,  when  the  sword 
My  father,  frantic,  pointed  at  my  neck. 

Ores.  Ah  me !  methinks  ev’n  now  I  see  thee 
there. 

Iph.  When  to  Achilles,  brother,  not  a  bride,  935 
I  to  the  sacrifice  by  guile  was  led, 

And  tears  and  groans  the  altar  compass’d  round. 
Ores.  Alas,  the  lavers  there ! 

Iph.  I  mourn’d  the  deed 

My  father  dared ;  unlike  a  father’s  love  ; 

Cruel,  unlike  a  father’s  love,  to  me.  y  940 
Ores.  Ill  deeds  succeed  to  ill :  if  thou  hadst  slain 
Thy  brother,  by  some  god  impell’d,  what  griefs 
Must  have  been  thine  at  such  a  dreadful  deed  ! 

Iph.  Dreadful,  my  brother,  O  how  dreadful !  Scarce 
Hast  thou  escaped  a  foul,  unhallow’d  death,  945 
Slain  by  my  hands.  But  how  will  these  things  end  1 
What  Fortune  will  assist  me  ?  What  safe  means 
Shall  I  devise  to  send  thee  from  this  state, 

From  slaughter,  to  thy  native  land,  to  Argos, 

Ere  with  thy  blood  the  cruel  sword  be  stain’d  1  950 
This  to  devise,  0  my  unhappy  soul ! 

This  to  devise  is  thine.  Wilt  thou  by  land, 

Thy  bark  deserted,  speed  thy  flight  on  foot  1 
Perils  await  thee  mid  these  barbarous  tribes,  954 
Through  pathless  wilds ;  and  ’twixt  the  clashing 
rocks, 

Narrow  the  passage  for  the  flying  bark, 

And  long.  Unhappy,  ah,  unhappy  me  ! 

What  god,  what  mortal,  what  unlook’d-for  chance 
Will  expedite  our  dangerous  way,  and  show 
Two  sprung  from  Atreus  a  release  from  ills'?  960 
Cho.  What  having  seen  and  heard  I  shall  relate, 
Is  marvellous,  and  passes  fabling  tales. 

Pyl.  When  after  absence  long,  Orestes,  friend 
Meets  friend,  embraces  will  express  their  joy. 
Behooves  us  now,  bidding  farewell  to  grief,  965 
And  heedful  to  obtain  the  glorious  name 

X  2 


246 


EURIPIDES. 


Of  safety,  from  this  barbarous  land  to  fly. 

The  wise,  of  fortune  not  regardless,  seize 
The  occasion,  and  to  happiness  advance.- 
Ores.  Well  hast  thou  said ;  and  Fortune  here,  I 
ween,  970 

Will  aid  us ;  to  the  firm  and  strenuous  mind 
More  potent  works  the  influence  divine. 

Iph.  Nothing  shall  check,  nothing  restrain  my 
speech : 

First  will  I  question  thee  what  fortune  waits 
Electra :  this  to  know  would  yield  me  joy.  975 
Ores.  With  him  [pointing  to  Pylades ]  she  dwells, 
and  happy  is  her  life. 

Iph.  Whence  then  is  he  1  and  from  what  father 
sprung  1 

Ores.  From  Phocis :  Strophius  is  his  father 
named. 

Iph.  By  Atreus’  daughter  to  my  blood  allied  1 
Ores.  Nearly  allied :  my  only  faithful  friend.  980 
Iph.  He  was  not  then,  me  when  my  father  slew. 
Ores.  Childless  was  Strophius  for  some  length 
of  time. 

Iph.  0  thou,  the  husband  of  my  sister,  hail ! 

Ores.  More  than  relation,  my  preserver  too.  984 
Iph.  But  to  thy  mother  why  that  dreadful  deed  ? 
Ores.  Of  that  no  more :  to  avenge  my  father’s 
death. 

Iph.  But  for  what  cause  did  she  her  husband  slay  1 
Ores.  Of  her  inquire  not :  thou  wouldst  blush  to 
hear. 

Iph.  The  eyes  of  Argos  now  are  raised  to  thee. 
Ores.  There  Menelaus  is  lord;  I,  outcast,  fly.  990 
Iph.  Hath  he  then  wrong’d  his  brother’s  ruin’d 
house  ? 

Ores.  Not  so:  the  Furies  fright  me  from  the 
land. 

Iph.  The  madness  this,  which  seized  thee  on  the 
shore  1 

Ores.  I  was  not  first  beheld  unhappy  there. 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS* 


247 


Iph.  Stern  powers!  they  haunt  thee  for  thy 
mother’s  blood.  995 

Ores.  And  ruthless  make  me  champ  the  bloody 
bit. 

Iph.  Why  to  this  region  has  thou  steer’d  thy 
course? 

Ores.  Commanded  by  Apollo’s  voice,  I  come. 

Tph.  With  what  intent  ?  if  that  may  be  disclosed. 

Ores.  I  will  inform  thee,  though  to  length  of 
speech  1000 

This  leads.  When  vengeance  from  my  hands  o’er- 
took 

My  mother’s  deeds — foul  deeds,  which  let  me  pass 
In  silence — by  the  Furies’  fierce  assaults 
To  flight  I  was  impell’d  :  to  Athens  then 
Apollo  sent  me,  that,  my  cause  there  heard,  1005 
I  might  appease  the  vengeful  powers,  whose  names 
May  not  be  utter’d  :  the  tribunal  there 
Is  holy,  which  for  Mars,  when  stain’d  with  blood, 
Jove  in  old  times  establish’d.  There  arrived, 

None  willingly  received  me,  by  the  gods  1010 
As  one  abhorr’d  ;  and  they,  who  felt  the  touch 
Of  shame,  the  hospitable  board  alone 
Yielded  ;  and  though  one  common  roof  beneath, 
Their  silence  showing  they  disdain’d  to  hold 
Converse  with  me,  I  took  from  them  apart  1015 
A  lone  repast ;  to  each  was  placed  a  bowl 
Of  the  same  measure ;  this  they  filled  with  wine, 
And  bathed  their  spirits  in  delight.  Unmeet 
I  deem’d  it  to  express  offence  at  those 
Who  entertain’d  me,  but  in  silence  grieved,  1020 
Showing  a  cheer  as  though  I  mark’d  it  not, 

And  sigh’d  for  that  1  shed  my  mother’s  blood. 

A  feast,  T  hear,  at  Athens  is  ordain’d 
From  this  my  evil  plight,  ev’n  yet  observed, 

In  which  the  equal-measured  bowl  then  used  1025 
Is  by  that  people  held  in  honour  high. 

But  when  to  the  tribunal  on  the  mount 
Of  Mars  I  came,  one  stand  I  took,  and  one 


248 


EURIPIDES. 


The  eldest  of  the  Furies  opposite  : 

The  cause  was  heard  touching  my  mother’s  blood, 
And  Phoebus  saved  me  by  his  evidence  ;  1031 

Equal,  by  Pallas  number’d,  were  the  votes, 

And  I  from  doom  of  blood  victorious  freed. 

Such  of  the  Furies  as  there  sat,  appeased 
By  the  just  sentence,  nigh  the  court  resolved  1035 
To  fix  their  seat ;  but  others,  whom  the  law 
Appeased  not,  with  relentless  tortures  still 
Pursued  me,  till  I  reach’d  the  hallow’d  soil 
Of  Phoebus  :  stretch’d  before  his  shrine,  1  swore 
Foodless  to  waste  my  wretched  life  away,  1040 
Unless  the  god,  by  whom  I  was  undone, 

Would  save  me  :  from  the  golden  tripod  burst 
The  voice  divine,  and  sent  me  to  this  shore, 
Commanding  me  to  bear  the  image  hence, 

Which  fell  from  Jove,  and  in  the  Athenian  land  1045 
To  fix  it.  WThat  the  oracular  voice  assign’d 
My  safety,  do  thou  aid  :  if  we  obtain 
The  statue  of  the  goddess,  I  no  more 
With  madness  shall  be  tortured,  but  this  arm 
Shall  place  thee  in  my  bark,  which  ploughs  the 
waves  1050 

With  many  an  oar,  and  to  Mycenae  safe 
Bear  thee  again.  Show  then  a  sister’s  love, 

O  thou  most  dear  ;  preserve  thy  father’s  house, 
Preserve  me  too ;  for  me  destruction  waits, 

And  all  the  race  of  Pelops,  if  we  bear  not  1055 
This  heaven-descended  image  from  the  shrine. 

Cho.  The  anger  of  the  gods  hath  raged  severe, 
And  plunged  the  race  of  Tantalus  in  woes. 

Iph.  Ere  thy  arrival  here,  a  fond  desire 
To  be  again  at  Argos,  and  to  see  1060 

Thee,  my  loved  brother,  fill’d  my  soul.  Thy  wish 
Is  my  warm  wish,  to  free  thee  from  thy  toils. 

And  from  its  ruins  raise  my  father’s  house; 

Nor  harbour  I  ’gainst  him,  that  slew  me,  thought 
Of  harsh  resentment:  from  thy  blood  my  hands  1065 
Would  J  keep  pure,  thy  house  I  would  preserve. 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


249 


But  from  the  goddess  how  may  this  be  hid  ? 

The  tyrant  too  I  fear,  when  he  shall  find 
The  statue  on  its  marble  base  no  more.  1069 

What  then  from  death  will  save  me  1  What  excuse 
Shall  I  devise  1  Yet  by  one  daring  deed 
Might  these  things  be  achieved :  couldst  thou  bear 
hence 

The  image,  me  too  in  thy  gallant  bark 
Placing  secure,  how  glorious  were  the  attempt ! 

Me  if  thou  join  not  with  thee,  I  am  lost  1075 

Indeed  ;  but  thou,  with  prudent  measures  form’d. 
Return.  I  fly  no  danger,  not  ev’n  death, 

Be  death  required,  to  save  thee  :  no :  the  man 
Dying  is  mourn’d,  as  to  his  house  a  loss ; 

But  woman’s  weakness  is  of  light  esteem.  1080 
Ores.  I  would  not  be  the  murderer  of  my  mother, 
And  of  thee  too  ;  sufficient  is  her  blood. 

No ;  I  will  share  thy  fortune,  live  with  thee, 

Or  with  thee  die  :  to  Argos  I  will  lead  thee, 

If  here  I  perish  not ;  or  dying,  here  1085 

Remain  with  thee.  But  what  my  mind  suggests, 
Hear :  if  Diana  were  averse  to  this, 

How  could  the  voice  of  Phoebus  from  his  shrine 
Declare  that  to  the  state  of  Pallas  hence 
The  statue  of  the  goddess  I  should  bear,  1090 
And  see  thy  face  1  All  this,  together  weigh’d, 

Gives  hope  of  fair  success,  and  our  return. 

Iph.  But  how  effect  it,  that  we  neither  die, 

And  what  we  wish  achieve  1  For  our  return  1094 
On  this  depends :  this  claims  deliberate  thought. 
Ores.  Have  we  not  means  to  work  the  tyrant’s 
death  1 

Iph.  For  strangers  full  of  peril  were  the  attempt. 
Ores.  Xhee  would  it  save  and  me,  it  must  be 
dared. 

Iph.  I  could  not :  yet  thy  promptness  I  approve. 
Ores.  What  if  thou  lodge  me  in  the  shrine  con¬ 
ceal’d  ?  1100 

Iph.  That  in  the  shades  of  night  wo  may  escape  1 


250 


EURIPIDES. 


Ores.  Night  is  a  friend  to  frauds,  the  light  to 
truth. 

Iph.  Within  are  sacred  guards;  we  ’scape  not 
them.  , 

Ores.  Ruin  then  waits  us  :  how  can  we  be  saved  ] 
Iph.  I  think  I  have  some  new  and  safe  device.  1105 
Ores.  What  is  it  1  Let  me  know :  impart  thy 
thought. 

Iph.  Thy  sufferings  for  my  purpose  I  will  use, — 
Ores.  To  form  devices  quick  is  woman’s  wit. 

Iph.  And  say,  thy  mother  slain,  thou  fledd’st  from 
Argos. 

Ores.  If  to  aught  good,  avail  thee  of  my  ills.  1110 
Iph.  Unmeet  then  at  this  shrine  to  offer  thee. 
Ores.  What  cause  alleged]  I  reach  not  thine 
intent. 

Iph.  As  now  impure  :  when  hallow’d,  I  will  slay 
thee. 

Ores.  How  is  the  image  thus  more  promptly 
gain’d  ] 

Iph.  Thee  I  will  hallow  in  the  ocean  waves.  1115 
Ores.  The  statue  we  would  gain  is  in  the  temple. 
Iph.  That,  by  thy  touch  polluted,  I  would  cleanse. 
Ores.  Where  1  On  the  watery  margin  of  the 
main  ] 

Iph.  Where  thy  tall  bark  secured  with  cables 
rides. 

Ores.  And  who  shall  bear  the  image  in  his 
hands  ]  1 120 

Iph.  Myself ;  profaned  by  any  touch  but  mine. 
Ores.  What  of  this  blood  shall  on  my  friend  be 
charged ] 

Iph.  His  hands,  it  shall  be  said,  like  thine  are 
stain’d. 

Ores.  In  secret  this,  or  to  the  king  disclosed  ] 
Iph.  With  his  assent ;  I  cannot  hide  it  from  him. 
Ores.  My  bark  with  ready  oars  attends  thee 
near.  1126 

Iph.  That  all  be  well  appointed,  be  thy  charge. 


JPHIGENIA.  IN  TAURIS. 


251 


Ores.  One  thing-  alone  remains ;  that  these  conceal 
Our  purpose  :  but  address  them,  teach  thy  tongue 
Persuasive  words  :  a  woman  hath  the  power  1130 
To  melt  the  heart  to  pity:  thus  perchance 
AW  things  may  to  our  warmest  wish  succeed. 

Iph.  Ye  train  of  females,  to  my  soul  most  dear, 
On  you  mine  eyes  are  turn’d,  on  you  depends 
My  fate  ;  with  prosperous  fortune  to  be  bless’d,  1135 
Or  to  be  nothing,  to  my  country  lost, 

Of  a  dear  kinsman  and  a  much-loved  brother 
Deprived.  This  plea  I  first  would  urge,  that  we 
Are  women,  and  have  hearts  by  nature  form’d 
To  love  each  other,  of  our  mutual  trusts  1140 

Most  firm  preservers.  Touching  our  design, 

Be  silent,  and  assist  our  flight :  naught  claims 
More  honour  than  the  faithful  tongue.  You  see 
How  the  same  fortune  links  us  three,  most  dear 
Each  to  the  other,  to  revisit  safe  1145 

Our  country,  or  to  die.  If  I  am  saved, 

That  thou  mayst  share  my  fortune,  I  to  Greece 
Will  bring  thee  safe  :  but  thee  by  this  right  hand, 
Thee  I  conjure,  and  thee  ;  by  this  loved  cheek 
Thee,  by  thy  knees,  by  all  that  in  your  house  1150 
Is  dearest  to  you,  father,  mother,  child, 

If  you  have  children.  What  do  you  reply  1 
Which  of  you  speaks  assent  1  Or  which  dissents  1 
But  be  you  all  assenting :  for  my  plea 
If  you  approve  not,  ruin  falls  on  me,  1155 

And  my  unhappy  brother  too  must  die. 

Cho.  Be  confident,  loved  lady,  and  consult 
Only  thy  safety  :  all  thou  givest  in  charge, 

Be  witness,  mighty  Jove,  I  will  conceal. 

Iph.  O,  for  this  generous  promise  be  you  bless’d! 
To  enter  now  the  temple  be  thy  part,  1161 

And  thine  :  for  soon  the  monarch  of  the  land 
W^ll  come,  inquiring  if  the  strangers  yet 
Have  bow’d  their  necks  as  victims  at  the  shrine. 


1161  To  Orestes  and  Pylades. 


252 


EURIPIDES. 


Goddess  revered,  who  in  the  dreadful  bay  1165 
Of  Aulis  from  my  father’s  slaughtering  hand 
Didst  save  me ;  save  me  now,  and  these :  through 
thee, 

Else  will  the  voice  of  Phoebus  be  no  more 
Held  true  by  mortals.  From  this  barbarous  land 
To  Athens  go  propitious  :  here  to  dwell  1170 

Beseems  thee  not ;  thine  be  a  polish’d  state  ! 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I. 

0  bird,  that  round  each  craggy  height 
Projecting  o’er  the  sea  below, 

Wheelest  thy  melancholy  flight, 

Thy  song  attuned  to  notes  of  wo  ;  1175 

The  wise  thy  tender  sorrows  own, 

Which  thy  lost  lord  unceasing  moan  ; 

Like  thine,  sad  halcyon,  be  my  strain, 

A  bird,  that  have  no  wings  to  fly  : 

With  fond  desire  for  Greece  I  sigh,  1180 
And  for  my  much-loved  social  train  ; 

Sigh  for  Diana,  pitying  maid, 

Who  joys  to  rove  o’er  Cynthus’  heights, 

Or  in  the  branching  laurel’s  shade, 

Or  in  the  soft-hair’d  palm  delights,  1185 
Or  the  hoar  olive’s  sacred  boughs, 

Lenient  of  sad  Latona’s  woes  ; 

Or  in  the  lake,  that  rolls  its  wave 
Where  swans  their  plumage  love  to  lave  ; 

Then,  to  the  Muses  soaring  high,  1190 

The  homage  pay  of  melody. 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

Ye  tears,  what  frequent-falling  showers 
Roll’d  down  these  cheeks  in  streams  of  wo, 
When  in  the  dust  my  country’s  towers 

Lay  levell’d  by  the  conquering  foe  ;  1195 

And,  to  their  spears  a  prey,  their  oars  * 

Brought  me  to  these  barbaric  shores ! 


I 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


253 


For  gold  exchanged,  a  traffic  base, 

No  vulgar  slave,  the  task  is  mine, 

Here  at  Diana’s  awful  shrine,  1200 

Who  loves  the  woodland  hind  to  chase, 

The  virgin  priestess  to  attend, 

Daughter  of  rich  Mycenae’s  lord  ; 

At  other  shrines  her  wish  to  bend, 

Where  bleeds  the  victim  less  abhorr’d  :  1205 
No  respite  to  her  griefs  she  knows  ; 

Not  so  the  heart  inured  to  woes, 

As  train’d  to  sorrow’s  rigid  lore  : 

Now  comes  a  change  ;  it  mourns  no  more  : 

But  to  long  bliss  when  ill  succeeds,  1210 

The  anguish’d  heart  for  ever  bleeds. 

STROPHE  II. 

Thee,  loved  virgin,  freed  from  fear 
Home  the  Argive  bark  shall  bear  : 

Mountain  Pan,  with  thrilling  strain, 

To  the  oars  that  dash  the  main  1215 

In  just  cadence  well  agreed, 

Shall  accord  his  wax-join’d  reed  : 

Phoebus,  with  a  prophet’s  fire 
Sweeping  o’er  his  seven-string’d  lyre, 

And  his  voice  attuning  high  1220 

To  the  swelling  harmony, 

Thee  shall  guide  the  wild  waves  o’er 
To  the  soft  Athenian  shore. 

Leaving  me,  thy  oars  shall  sweep 

Eager  o’er  the  foaming  deep:  1225 

Thou  shalt  catch  the  rising  gales 

Swelling  in  thy  firm-bound  sails  ; 

And  thy  bark  in  gallant  pride 
Light  shall  o’er  the  billows  glide. 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

Might  I  through  the  lucid  air  1230 

Fly  where  rolls  yon  flaming  car, 

O’er  those  loved  and  modest  bowers, 

Where  I  pass’d  my  youthful  hours, 

Eurip.  Vol.  III. — Y 


254 


EURIPIDES. 


I  would  stay  my  weary  flight, 

Wave  no  more  my  pennons  light,  1235 

But,  amid  the  virgin  band, 

Once  my  loved  companions,  stand  : 

Once  mid  them  my  charms  could  move, 
Blooming  then,  the  flames  of  love  ; 

When  the  mazy  dance  I  trod,  1240 

While  with  joy  my  mother  glow’d  ; 

When  to  vie  in  grace  was  mine, 

And  in  splendid  robes  to  shine ; 

For,  with  radiant  tints  impress’d, 

Glow’d  for  me  the  gorgeous  vest ;  1245 

And  these  tresses  gave  new  grace, 

As  their  ringlets  shade  my  face. 

THOAS,  IPHIGENIA,  CHORUS. 

Tho.  Where  is  the  Grecian  lady,  to  whose  charge 
This  temple  is  committed  ?  Have  her  rites 
Hallow’d  the  strangers  1  Do  their  bodies  burn  1250 
In  the  recesses  of  the  sacred  shrine  ? 

Cho.  She  comes,  and  will  inform  thee,  king,  of 
■  all.  "■ 

Tho.  Daughter  of  Agamemnon,  what  means  this  1 
The  statue  of  the  goddess  in  thine  arms  1254 

Why  dost  thou  bear,  from  its  firm  base  removed  ? 
Iph.  There  in  the  portal,  monarch,  stay  thy  step. 
Tho.  What  of  strange  import  in  the  shrine  hath 
chanced  1 

Iph.  Things  ominous :  that  word  I,  holy,  speak. 
Tho.  To  what  is  tuned  thy  proem  1  Plainly 
speak. 

Iph.  Not  pure  the  victims,  king,  you  lately  seized. 
Tho.  What  show’d  thee  this  ?  Or  speak’st  thou 
but  thy  thought  1  1261 

Iph.  Back  turn’d  the  sacred  image  on  its  base. 
Tho.  Spontaneous  turn’d,  or  by  an  earthquake 
moved  1 

Iph.  Spontaneous,  and,  averted,  closed  its  eyes. 


IPIilGENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


255 


Tho.  What  was  the  cause  1  The  blood-stain’d 
stranger’s  guilt  ?  1265 

Iph.  That,  and  naught  else;  for  horrible  their 
deeds. 

Tho.  What,  have  they  slain  some  Scythian  on 
the  shore  1 

Iph.  They  came  polluted  with  domestic  blood. 

Tho.  What  blood  1  I  have  a  strong  desire  to 
know. 

Iph.  They  slew  their  mother  with  confederate 
swords.  1270 

Tho.  O  Phoebus !  This  hath  no  barbarian  dared. 

Iph.  All  Greece  indignant  chased  them  from  her 
realms. 

Tho.  Bear’st  thou  for  this  the  image  from  the 
shrine ! 

Iph.  To  the  pure  air,  from  stain  of  blood  re¬ 
moved. 

Tho.  By  what  means  didst  thou  know  the  stran¬ 
ger’s  guilt  ?  v  1275 

Iph.  I  learn’d  it  as  the  statue  started  back. 

Tho.  Greece  train’d  thee  wise :  this  well  hast  thou 
discern’d. 

Iph.  Now  with  sweet  blandishments  they  sooth 
my  soul. 

Tho.  Some  glozing  tale  from  Argos  telling  thee  ? 

Iph.  I  have  one  brother :  he,  they  say,  lives 
happy, —  1280 

Tho.  That  thou  mayst  save  them  for  their  pleas¬ 
ing  news  1 

Iph.  And  that  my  father  lives,  by  fortune  bless’d. 

Tho.  But  on  the  goddess  well  thy  thoughts  are 
turn’d. 

Iph.  I  hate  all  Greece  ;  for  it  hath  ruin’d  me. 

Tho.  What  with  the  strangers,  say  then,  should 
be  done  1  1285 

Iph.  The  law  ordain’d  in  reverence  we  must  hold. 

Tho.  Are  then  thy  lavers  ready,  and  the  sword  1 


256 


EURIPIDES. 


Iph.  First  I  would  cleanse  them  with  ablutions 
pure. 

Tho.  In  fountain  waters,  or  the  ocean  wave  1 
Iph.  All  mail’s  pollutions  doth  the  salt  sea  cleanse. 
Tho.  More  holy  to  the  goddess  will  they  bleed.  1291 
Iph.  And  better  what  I  have  in  charge  advance. 
Tho.  Doth  not  the  wave  ev’n  ’gainst  the  temple 
beat  1 

Iph.  This  requires  solitude  :  more  must  I  do. 

Tho.  Lead  where  thou  wilt :  on  secret  rite  I  pry 
not.  1295 

Iph.  The  image  of  the  goddess  I  must  cleanse. 
Tho.  If  it  be  stain’d  with  touch  of  mother’s  blood. 
Iph.  I  could  not  else  have  borne  it  from  its  base. 
Tho.  Just  is  thy  provident  and  pious  thought ; 
For  this  hy  all  the  state  thou  art  revered.  1300 
Iph.  Know’st  thou  what  next  I  would  ? 

Tho.  j  ’Tis  thine  thy  will 

To  signify. 

Iph.  Give  for  these  strangers  chains. 

Tho.  To  what  place  can  they  fly  ? 

Iph.  A  Grecian  knows 

Naught  faithful. 

Tho.  Of  my  train  go  some  for  chains. 

Iph.  Let  them  lead  forth  the  strangers. 

Tho.  Be  it  so.  1305 

Iph.  And  veil  their  faces. 

Tho.  From  the  sun’s  bright  beams  1 

Iph.  Some  of  thy  train  send  with  me. 

Tho.  These  shall  go, 

Attending  thee. 

Iph.  One  to  the  city  send. 

Tho.  With  what  instructions  charged  ? 

Iph.  That  all  remain 

Within  their  houses. 

Tho.  That  the  stain  of  blood  1310 

They  meet  not  1 

Iph.  These  things  have  pollution  in  them. 

Tn  r»  On  *V><\n  pr>r?  bppr  flip  inetrin'+’pr.c- 


IPH1GENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


257 


Iph.  That  none  come 

In  sight. 

Tho.  How  wisely  careful  for  the  city ! 

Iph.  Warn  our  friends  most. 

Tho.  This  speaks  thy  care  for  me. 

Iph.  Stay  thou  before  the  shrine. 

Tho.  To  what  intent  1  1315 

Iph.  Cleanse  it  with  lustral  fires. 

Tho.  That  thy  return 

May  find  it  pure  1 

Iph.  But  when  the  strangers  come 

Forth  from  the  temple, — 

Tho.  What  must  I  then  do  ? 

Iph.  Spread  o’er  thine  eyes  a  veil. 

Tho.  That  I  receive  not 

Pollution? 

Ipii.  Tedious  if  my  stay  appear, —  1320 

Tho.  What  bounds  may  be  assign’d  ? 

Iph.  Deem  it  not  strange. 

Tho.  At  leisure  what  the  rites  require  perform. 

Iph.  May  this  lustration  as  I  wish  succeed ! 

Tho.  Thy  wish  is  mine. 

Iph.  But  from  the  temple,  see, 

The  strangers  come,  the  sacred  ornaments,  1325 
The  hallow’d  lambs — for  I  with  blood  must  wash 
This  execrable  blood  away, — the  light 
Of  torches,  and  what  else  my  rites  require 
To  purify  these  strangers  to  the  goddess. 

But  to  the  natives  of  this  land  my  voice  1330 

Proclaims,  from  this  pollution  far  remove, 

Art  thou  attendant  at  the  shrine,  who  liftest 
Pure  to  the  gods  thy  hands,  or  nuptial  rites 
Dost  thou  prepare,  or  pregnant  matron ;  hence, 
Begone,  that  this  defilement  none  may  touch.  1335 
Thou,  daughter  of  Latona  and  high  Jove, 

O  royal  virgin,  if  I  cleanse  the  stain 
Of  these,  and  where  I  ought  with  holy  rites 
Address  thee,  thou  shalt  hold  thy  residence 
In  a  pure  mansion  ;  we  too  shall  be  bless’d. 

y  2 


1340 


258 


EURIPIDES. 


More  though  I  speak  not,  goddess,  unexpress’d. 

All  things  to  thee  and  to  the  gods  are  known. 

CHORUS. 

Latona  s  glorious  offspring  claims  the  song, 

Born  the  hallow’d  shades  among, 

Where  fruitful  Delos  winds  her  valleys  low  ;  1345 

Bright-hair’d  Phoebus,  skill’d  to  inspire 
Raptures,  as  he  sweeps  the  lyre, 

And  she  that  glories  in  the  unerring  bow. 

From  the  rocky  ridges  steep, 

At  whose  feet  the  hush’d  waves  sleep,  1350 
Left  their  far-famed  native  shore, 

Them  the  exulting  mother  bore 
To  Parnassus,  on  whose  heights 
Bacchus  shouting  holds  his  rites  ; 

Glittering  in  the  burnish’d  shade,  1355 

By  the  laurel’s  branches  made, 

"Where  the  enormous  dragon  lies, 

Brass  his  scales,  and  flame  his  eyes, 

Earth-born  monster,  that  around 

Rolling  guards  the  oracular  ground  ;  1360 

Him,  while  yet  a  sportive  child, 

In  his  mother’s  arms  that  smiled, 

Phoebus  slew,  and  seized  the  shrine 
Whence  proceeds  the  voice  divine  : 

On  the  golden  tripod  placed,  1365 

Throne  by  falsehood  ne’er  disgraced, 

Where  Castalia’s  pure  stream  flows, 

He  the  fates  to  mortal  shows. 

But  when  Themis,  whom  of  yore 

Earth,  her  fruitful  mother,  bore,  1370 

From  her  hallow’d  seat  he  drove, 

Earth  to  avenge  her  daughter  strove, 

Forming  visions  of  the  night, 

Which,  in  rapt  dreams  hovering  light, 

All  that  Time’s  dark  volumes  hold  1375 


1350  The  lake  in  Delos, 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TATJRIS. 


259 


Might  to  mortal  sense  unfold, 

When  in  midnight’s  sable  shades 
Sleep  the  silent  couch  invades  : 

Thus  did  Earth  her  vengeance  boast. 

His  prophetic  honours  lost,  1380 

Royal  Phoebus  speeds  his  flight 
To  Olympus,  on  whose  height 
At  the  throne  of  Jove  he  stands. 

Stretching  forth  his  little  hands, 

Suppliant  that  the  Pythian  shrine  1385 

Feel  no  more  the  wrath  divine ; 

That  the  goddess  he  appease ; 

That  her  nightly  visions  cease. 

Jove  with  smiles  beheld  his  son 

Early  thus  address  his  throne,  1390 

Suing  with  ambitious  pride 

O’er  the  rich  shrine  to  preside; 

He,  assenting,  bow’d  his  head. 

Straight  the  nightly  visions  fled  ; 

And  prophetic  dreams  no  more  1395 

Hover’d  slumbering  mortals  o’er: 

Now  to  Phoebus  given  again, 

All  his  honours  pure  remain; 

Votaries  distant  regions  send 

His  frequented  throne  to  attend  :  1400 

And  the  firm  decrees  of  fate 

On  his  faithful  voice  await. 

MESSENGER,  CHORUS. 

Mes.  Say  you,  that  keep  the  temple,  and  attend 
The  altar,  where  is  Thoas,  Scythia’s  king ? 

Open  these  strong-compacted  gates,  and  call  1405 
Forth  from  the  shrine  the  monarch  of  the  land. 

Cho.  Wherefore?  at  thy  command  if  I  must 
speak. 

Mes.  The  two  young  men  are  gone,  through  the 
device 

Of  Agamemnon’s  daughter:  from  this  land 


260 


EURIPIDES. 


They  fly;  and,  in  their  Grecian  galley  placed,  1410 
The  sacred  image  of  the  goddess  bear. 

Cho.  Incredible  thy  tale  :  but  whom  thou  seek’st, 
The  monarch,  from  the  temple  went  in  haste. 

Mes.  Whither?  for  what  is  doing  he  should  know. 
Cho.  We  know  not:  but  go  thou,  and  seek  for 
him:  1415 

Where’er  thou  find  him,  thou  wilt  tell  him  this. 

Mes.  See,  what  a  faithless  race  you  women  are ! 
In  all  that  hath  been  done  you  have  a  part. 

Cho.  Sure  thou  art  mad  !  what  with  the  strangers’ 
flight 

Have  we  to  do  ?  But  wilt  thou  not,  with  all  1420 
The  speed  thou  mayst,  go  to  the  monarch’s  house? 

Mes.  Not  till  I  first  am  well  inform’d,  if  here 
Within  the  temple  be  the  king,  or  not. 

Unbar  the  gates  (to  you  within  I  speak) ; 

And  tell  your  lord  that  at  the  portal  here  1425 
1  stand,  and  bring  him  tidings  of  fresh  ills. 

•  *  •  '  ■  * 

THOAS,  MESSENGER,  CHORUS. 

Tho.  Who  at  the  temple  of  the  goddess  dares 
This  clamour  raise,  and,  thundering  at  the  gates, 
Strikes  terror  through  the  ample  space  within  ? 

Mes.  With  falsehoods  would  these  women  drive 
me  hence,  1430 

Without  to  seek  thee  :  thou  wast  in  the  shrine. 
Tho.  With  what  intent?  or  what  advantage 
sought  ? 

Mes.  Of  these  hereafter  ;  what  more  urgent  now 
Imports  thee,  hear :  the  virgin,  in  this  place 
Presiding  at  the  altars,  from  this  land  .  1435 

Is  with  the  strangers  fled,  and  bears  with  her 
The  sacred  image  of  the  goddess  ;  all 
Of  her  ablutions  but  a  false  pretence. 

Tho.  How  say’st  thou?  What  is  her  accursed 
design  ?  1439 

Mes.  To  save  Orestes :  this  too  will  amaze  thee. 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS.  261 

Tho.  Whom  ?  What  Orestes  ?  Clytemnestra’s 
son  ? 

Mes.  Him  at  the  altar  hallow’d  now  to  bleed. 

Tho.  Portentous  !  for  what  less  can  it  be  call’d? 
Mes.  Think  not  on  that,  but  hear  me  ;  with  deep 
thought  1444 

Reflect :  weigh  well  what  thou  shalt  hear  ;  devise 
By  what  pursuit  to  reach  and  seize  the  strangers. 
Tho.  Speak :  thou  advisest  well :  the  sea  though 
nigh, 

They  fly  not  so  as  to  escape  my  spear. 

Mes.  When  to  the  shore  we  came,  where  station’d 
rode 

The  galley  of  Orestes,  by  the  rocks  1450 

Conceal’d  to  us,  whom  thou  hadst  sent  with  her 
To  hold  the  strangers’  chains,  the  royal  maid 
Made  signs  that  we  retire,  and  stand  aloof, 

As  if  with  secret  rites  she  would  perform 
The  purposed  expiation :  on  she  went,  1455 

In  her  own  hands  holding  the  strangers’  chains 
Behind  them :  not  without  suspicion  this, 

Yet  by  thy  servants,  king,  allow’d.  At  length, 

That  we  might  deem  her  in  some  purpose  high 
Employ’d,  she  raised  her  voice,  and  chanted  loud 
Barbaric  strains,  as  if  with  mystic  rites  1461 

She  cleansed  the  stain  of  blood.  When  we  had  sat 
A  tedious  while,  it  came  into  our  thought, 

That  from  their  chains  unloosed,  the  stranger  youths 
Might  kill  her,  and  escape  by  flight:  yet  fear  1465 
Of  seeing  what  we  ought  not,  kept  us  still 
In  silence ;  but  at  length  we  all  resolved 
To  go,  though  not  permitted,  where  they  were. 
There  we  behold  the  Grecian  bark  with  oars  1469 
Well  furnish’d,  wing’d  for  flight ;  and  at  their  seats, 
Grasping  their  oars,  were  fifty  rowers  ;  free 
From  chains  beside  the  stern  the  two  youths  stood. 
Some  from  the  prow  relieved  the  keel  with  poles ; 
Some  weigh’d  the  anchors  up ;  the  climbing  ropes 


262  EURIPIDES. 

Some  hasten’d,  through  their  hands  the  cables 
drew,  1475 

Launch’d  the  light  bark,  and  gave  her  to  the  main. 
But  when  we  saw  their  treacherous  wiles,  we  rush’d 
Heedless  of  danger,  seized  the  priestess,  seized 
The  halsers,  hung  upon  the  helm,  and  strove 
To  rend  the  rudder-bands  away.  Debate  1480 
Now  rose  : — “  What  mean  you,  sailing  o’er  the  seas, 
The  statue  and  the  priestess  from  the  land 
By  stealth  conveying!  Whence  art  thou,  and  who, 
That  bear’st  her,  like  a  purchased  slave,  away  ?” 

He  said,  “  I  am  her  brother  ;  be  of  this  1485 

Inform’d  ;  Orestes,  son  of  Agamemnon : 

My  sister,  so  long  lost,  I  bear  away, 

Recover’d  here.”  But  naught  the  less  for  that 
Held  we  the  priestess,  and  by  force  would  lead 
Again  to  thee  :  hence  dreadful  on  our  cheeks  1490 
The  blows  ;  for  in  their  hands  no  sword  they  held, 
Nor  we  ;  but  many  a  rattling  stroke  the  youths 
Dealt  with  their  fists,  against  our  sides  and  breasts 
Their  arms  fierce  darting,  till  our  batter’d  limbs 
Were  all  disabled  :  now  with  dreadful  marks  1495 
Disfigured,  up  the  precipice  we  fly, 

Some  bearing  on  their  heads,  some  in  their  eyes 
The  bloody  bruises  :  standing  on  the  heights, 

Our  fight  was  safer,  and  we  hurl’d  at  them 
Fragments  of  rocks  ;  but,  standing  on  the  stern,  1500 
The  archers  with  their  arrows  drove  us  thence ; 

And  now  a  swelling  wave  roll’d  in,  which  drove 
The  galley  towards  the  land.  The  sailors  fear’d 
The  sudden  swell :  on  his  left  arm  sustain’d, 
Orestes  bore  his  sister  through  the  tide,  1505 

Mounted  the  bark’s  tall  side,  and  on  the  deck 
Safe  placed  her,  and  Diana’s  holy  image, 

Which  fell  from  heaven  ;  from  the  midship  his  voice 
He  sent  aloud : — “Ye  youths,  that  in  this  bark  1509 
From  Argos  plough’d  the  deep,  now  ply  your  oars, 
And  dash  the  billows  till  they  foam  :  those  things 
Are  ours,  for  which  we  swept  the  Euxine  sea. 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS. 


263 


And  steer’d  our  course  within  its  clashing  rocks.” 
They  gave  a  cheerful  shout,  and  with  their  oars 
Dash’d  the  salt  wave.  The  galley,  while  it  rode  1515 
Within  the  harbour,  work’d  its  easy  way  ; 

But  having  pass’d  its  mouth,  the  swelling  flood 
Roll’d  on  it,  and  with  sudden  force  the  wind 
Impetuous  rising  drove  it  back:  their  oars 
They  slack’d  not,  stoutly  struggling  ’gainst  the 
wave ;  1520 

But  towards  the  land  the  refluent  flood  impell’d 
The  galley  :  then  the  royal  virgin  stood, 

And  pray’d  : — “  0  daughter  of  Latona,  save  me, 

Thy  priestess  save  ;  from  this  barbaric  land 
To  Greece  restore  me,  and  forgive  my  thefts:  1525 
For  thou,  0  goddess,  dost  thy  brother  love, 

Deem  then  that  I  love  those  allied  to  me.” 

The  mariners  responsive  to  her  prayer 
Shouted  loud  paeans,  and  their  naked  arms, 

Each  cheering  each,  to  their  stout  oars  apply.  1530 

But  nearer  and  yet  nearer  to  the  rock 

The  galley  drove  :  some  rush’d  into  the  sea, 

Some  strain’d  the  ropes  that  bind  the  loosen’d  sails. 
Straight  was  1  hither  sent  to  thee,  0  king, 

To  inform  thee  of  these  accidents.  But  haste,  1535 
Take  chains  and  gyves  with  thee ;  for  if  the  flood 
Subside  not  to  a  calm,  there  is  no  hope 
Of  safety  to  the  strangers.  Be  assured, 

That  Neptune,  awful  monarch  of  the  main, 
Remembers  Troy  ;  and,  hostile  to  the  race  1540 
Of  Pelops,  will  deliver  to  thy  hands, 

And  to  thy  people,  as  is  meet,  the  son 
Of  Agamemnon;  and  bring  back  to  thee 
His  sister,  who  the  goddess  hath  betray’d, 
Unmindful  of  the  blood  at  Aulis  shed.  1545 

Cho.  Unhappy  Iphigenia,  thou  must  die, 

Thy  brother  too  must  die,  if  thou  again, 

Seized  in  thy  flight,  to  thy  lord’s  hands  shalt  come. 

Tho.  Inhabitants  of  this  barbaric  land, 

Will  you  not  rein  your  steeds,  will  you  not  fly  1550 


264 


EURIPIDES. 


Along  the  shore,  to  seize  whate’erthis  skiff 
Of  Greece  casts  forth  ;  and,  lor  your  goddess  roused, 
Hunt  down  these  impious  men  1  Will  you  not 
launch 

Instant  your  swift-oar’d  barks,  by  sea,  by  land 
To  catch  them,  from  the  rugged  rock  to  hurl  1555 
Their  bodies,  or  impale  them  on  the  stake  1 
But  for  you,  women,  in  these  dark  designs 
Accomplices,  hereafter,  as  I  find 
Convenient  leisure,  I  will  punish  yon. 

The  occasion  urges  now,  and  gives  no  pause.  1560 

MINERVA,  THOAS,  MESSENGER,  CHORUS. 

Min.  Whither,  O  royal  Thoas,  dost  thou  lead 
This  vengeful  chase  1  Attend  :  Minerva  speaks. 
Cease  thy  pursuit,  and  stop  this  rushing  flood 
Of  arms  ;  for  hither,  by  the  fateful  voice 
Of  Phoebus,  came  Orestes,  warn’d  to  fly  1565 

The  anger  of  the  Furies,  to  convey 
His  sister  to  her  native  Argos  back, 

And  to  my  land  the  sacred  image  bear. 

Thoas,  I  speak  to  thee :  him,  whom  thy  rage 
Would  kill,  Orestes,  on  the  wild  waves  seized,  1570 
Neptune,  to  do  me  grace,  already  wafts 
On  the  smooth  sea,  the  swelling  surges  calm’d. 

And  thou,  Orestes  (for  my  voice  thou  hear’st, 
Though  distant  far),  to  my  commands  attend: 

Go,  with  the  sacred  image,  which  thou  bear’st,  1575 
And  with  thy  sister  :  but  when  thou  shalt  come 
To  Athens  built  by  gods,  there  is  a  place 
On  the  extreme  borders  of  the  Attic  land, 

Close  neighbouring  to  Carystia’s  craggy  height, 
Sacred  ;  my  people  call  it  Alae  :  there  1580 

A  temple  raise,  and  fix  the  statue  there, 

Which  from  the  Tauric  goddess  shall  receive 
Its  name,  and  from  thy  toils,  which  thou,  through 
Greece 

Driven  by  the  Furies’  maddening  stings,  hast  borne  ; 
And  mortals  shall  in  future  times  with  hymns  1585 


IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS.  265 

The  Tauric  goddess  there,  Diana,  hail. 

And  be  this  law  establish’d ;  when  the  feast 
For  thy  deliverance  from  this  shrine  is  held, 

To  a  man’s  throat  that  they  apply  the  sword, 

And  draw  the  blood,  in  memory  of  these  rites,  1590 
That  of  her  honours  naught  the  goddess  lose. 

Thou,  Iphigenia,  on  the  hallow’d  heights 
Of  Brauron  on  this  goddess  shalt  attend 
Her  priestess,  dying  shalt  be  there  interr’d, 

Graced  with  the  honours  of  the  gorgeous  vests  1595 
Of  finest  texture,  in  their  houses  left 
By  matrons  who  in  childbed  pangs  expired. 

These  Grecian  dames  back  to  their  country  lead, 

I  charge  thee ;  justice  this  return  demands, 

For  I  saved  thee,  when  on  the  mount  of  Mars  1600 
The  votes  were  equal ;  and  from  that  decree 
The  shells  in  number  equal  still  absolve. 

But,  son  of  Agamemnon,  from  this  land 
Thy  sister  bear  ;  nor,  Thoas,  be  thou  angry. 

Tho.  Royal  Minerva,  he  that  hears  the  gods  1605 
Commanding,  and  obeys  not,  is  unwise. 

My  anger  ’gainst  Orestes  flames  no  more, 

Gone  though  he  be,  and  bears  with  him  away 
The  statue  of  the  goddess,  and  his  sister. 

Have  mortals  glory  ’gainst  the  powerful  gods  1610 
Contending?  Let  them  go,  and  to  thy  land 
The  sacred  image  bear,  and  fix  it  there  ; 

Good  fortune  go  with  them.  To  favour  Greece, 
These  dames,  at  thy  high  bidding,  I  will  send. 

My  arms  will  I  restrain,  which  I  had  raised  1615 
Against  the  strangers,  and  my  swift-oar’d  barks, 
Since,  potent  goddess,  this  is  pleasing  to  thee. 

Min.  I  praise  thy  resolution;  for  the  power 
Of  Fate  o’er  thee  and  o’er  the  gods  prevails. 
Breathe  soft,  ye  favouring  gales,  to  Athens  bear  1620 
These  sprung  from  Agamemnon ;  on  their  course 
Attending,  I  will  go,  and  heedful  save 
My  sister’s  sacred  image.  You  too  go  [fc>  the  Chorus 
Prosperous,  and  in  the  fate  that  guards  you  bless’d. 
Eurip.  Vol.  III. — Z 


266 


EURIPIDES. 


Cho.  0  thou,  among  the  immortal  gods  revered 
And  mortal  men,  Minerva,  we  will  do  1626 

As  thou  commandest;  for  with  transport  high, 
Exceeding  hope,  our  ears  receive  thy  words. 

O  Victory,  I  revere  thy  awful  power:  1629 

Guard  thou  my  life,  nor  ever  cease  to  crown  me ! 

1629  The  Phoenissse  and  Orestes  also  conclude  with  these 
lines :  they,  are  the  supplication  of  the  poet  for  the  favourable 
reception  of  his  tragedy,  and  allude  to  the  crown  with  which 
the  successful  drama  was  honoured. 


# 


!  . 

•  t 


ANDROMACHE. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS. 


Andromache. 

Hermione. 

Menelaus 

Molossus. 

Peleus. 

Orestes. 

Thetis. 

Female  Attendants. 
Messenger. 

Chorus  of  Phthian  virgins. 


* 


ANDROMACHE. 


ARGUMENT. 

After  the  destruction  of  Troy,  Andromache,  the  wife  of  Hec¬ 
tor,  in  the  division  of  prisoners  by  the  Greeks,  falls  to  the  lot 
of  Pyrrhus,  to  whom  she  bears  a  son,  named  Molossus.  The 
unfortunate  captive  and  her  infant  excite  the  jealousy  of  Her- 
mione,  the  barren  wife  of  her  conqueror.  She,  in  conjunction 
with  her  father  Menelaus,  resolves  to  take  advantage  of  the 
absence  of  Pyrrhus  at  Delphi,  to  destroy  both  the  mother  and 
child  :  this  cruel  design,  however,  is  prevented  by  the  inter¬ 
ference  of  Peleus.  Hermione,  finding  her  schemes  defeated, 
determines  to  lay  violent  hands  on  herself,  to  avoid  her  hus¬ 
band’s  resentment.  This  resolution  is  soon  changed  by  the 
arrival  of  Orestes,  with  whom  she  consents  to  elope  ;  while 
Pyrrhus  is  soon  after  murdered  by  the  Delphians,  at  the  insti¬ 
gation  of  Orestes.  The  grief  of  Peleus  at  the  premature  death 
of  his  grandson  is  allayed  by  the  appearance  of  Thetis,  who 
commands  him  to  bestow  Andromache  in  marriage  on  Helenus, 
the  son  of  Priam :  the  crown  of  Epirus  is  to  be  conferred  on 
her  son  Molossus,  from  whom  a  long  successive  race  of  kings 
is  promised  to  descend. — [The  scene  is  before  the  temple  of 
Thetis,  adjoining  to  the  palace  of  Pyrrhus,  near  Phthia.] 


ANDROMACHE. 

Thou  grace  of  Asia’s  empire,  tower’d  Thebe, 

From  whence,  with  all  the  gorgeous  pomp  of  gold 
Endow’d,  to  Priam’s  royal  house  I  came, 

In  marriage  given  to  Hector;  in  those  days 
Andromache  was  bless’d,  supremely  bless’d  ;  5 

But  now,  of  all  my  sex  that  e’er  have  lived, 

Or  e’er  shall  live,  I  am  the  greatest  wretch ; 

For  by  Achilles  I  have  seen  my  lord, 

Z  2 


270 


EURIPIDES. 


My  Hector,  slaughter’d ;  and  my  son,  the  pledge 
Of  our  connubial  love,  Astyanax,  10 

Hurl’d  headlong  from  the  rampires’  tower’d  height, 
After  the  Grecian  arms  had  vanquish’d  Troy. 

But  I,  who  in  a  palace  had  been  nursed 
Ev’n  in  the  lap  of  liberty,  was  brought 
To  Greece  a  slave,  to  Neoptolemus,  15 

An  island  lord,  assign’d  the  prize  of  war, 

Selected  from  the  spoils  of  plunder’d  Troy. 

In  Phthia  and  Pharsalia,  neighbouring  towns, 

I  have  my  habitation,  in  whose  plains 

The  sea-born  Thetis  once  with  Peleus  dwelt  20 

Apart,  retiring  from  the  haunts  of  men ; 

In  honour  of  the  goddess  holding  here 

Her  nuptials,  Thetidaeum  is  the  place 

By  the  Thessalians  named;  and  here  the  chief, 

Son  of  A  chilles,  in  this  house  hath  fix’d  25 

His  residence,  and  o’er  Thessalia’s  realms 
Lets  Peleus  reign,  unwilling  to  receive 
The  sceptre  while  the  hoary  king  yet  lives. 

Forced  to  the  embraces  of  my  lord,  a  son 
I  in  this  house  have  borne  ;  and  till  this  hour,  30 
Sunk  as  I  was  by  my  afflictions,  hope 
Still  flatter’d  me,  that,  were  my  son  preserved, 
Some  comfort,  some  protection  I  might  find 
Amid  my  ills :  but  since  this  Spartan  bride, 
Hermione,  he  weds,  from  me  his  slave  35 

My  lord  has  been  estranged,  and  I  by  her 
Am  with  most  cruel  injuries  oppress’d ; 

Accused,  that  by  my  secret-working  spells, 

I  make  her  childless,  and  her  husband’s  love 
Charm  from  her,  wishing  in  this  house  myself,  40 
Holding  her  place,  to  dwell,  her  bed  by  force 
Cast  out;  But  I  have  lost  what  I  at  first 
Unwillingly  received.  Almighty  Jove, 

Be  witness,  that  unwillingly  I  shared 
His  bed  !  But  all  I  urge  is  lost  on  her,  46 

And  she  resolves  to  kill  me  :  with  her  joins 
Her  father  Menelaus,  and  to  this  house 


ANDROMACHE. 


271 


From  Sparta  for  this  purpose  now  is  come. 

But  I  dismay’d  have  left  the  adjoining  house, 

And  suppliant  at  the  shrine  of  Thetis  sit,  50 

If  she  from  death  will  save  me  :  for  this  place 
Peleus,  and  all  that  sprung  from  Peleus,  hold 
In  reverence,  of  the  goddess  and  her  nuptials 
Hallow’d  memorial.  But  mine  only  son 
I  to  another  house  have  sent  by  stealth,  55 

Fearing  his  death ;  for  he,  who  gave  him  birth, 

Is  not  at  hand  to  succour  me  ;  his  son 

In  him  finds  no  protection,  in  the  land 

Of  Delphi  distant  far,  to  Phoebus  where 

He  makes  atonement  for  the  ungovern’d  rage  60 

Which  urged  him  once  at  Pytho  on  the  god 

To  call  for  vengeance  for  his  father’s  death  ; 

If  haply  Phoebus  for  his  past  offence 

He  may  propitiate,  by  his  vows  appeased.  64 

ANDROMACHE,  FEMALE  ATTENDANT. 

Att.  My  royal  mistress,  for  that  name  my  tongue 
Shall  not  refuse,  accustom’d  in  thy  house, 

When  we  in  Troy  together  dwelt,  to  pay 
That  honour;  and  a  zeal,  which  sprung  from  love 
For  thee  and  for  thy  husband,  when  he  lived, 
Prompted  my  duty ;  now  too  am  I  come  70 

To  tell  thee  what  I  know,  with  fear  indeed, 

Lest  by  our  lords  not  unperceived,  yet  moved 
With  pity  towards  thee.  Dreadful  the  designs 
By  Menelaus  and  by  his  daughter  form’d 
Against  thee  :  reason  is,  thou  guard  thee  well.  75 
And.  My  dearest  fellow-slave  (for  thou  art  now 
A  fellow-slave  with  me  who  was  thy  queen 
Once,  but  am  now  a  wretch),  what  their  design  1 
What  treacherous  business  plan  they  now,  intent 
To  take  away  my  miserable  life  I  80 

Att.  Thy  son,  whom  from  the  house  thou  hast 
removed 

By  stealth,  unhappy  lady,  they  will  slay. 

And.  Is  it  then  known  (ah  me  !)  where  I  my  son 


272 


EURIPIDES. 


Endeavour’d  to  conceal !  How  was  it  known  ? 

Ah  cruel  fortune,  how  am  I  undone  !  85 

Att.  I  know  not :  but  of  them  these  things  I 
learn’d  ; 

And  Menelaus  is  gone  to  seize  thy  son. 

And.  Then  I  am  lost  indeed.  Thee,  0  my  child, 
Will  these  two  vultures  seize  and  kill ;  while  he, 
Who  gave  thee  birth,  at  Delphi  lingers  yet.  90 
Att.  I  think  thou  wouldst  not  suffer  ills  like  these, 
Were  he  but  present:  thou  art  friendless  now. 

And.  Of  Peleus,  and  his  coming,  is  naught  heard  ? 
Att.  Little,  if  present,  would  his  age  avail  thee. 
And.  Yet  have  1  sent  to  him  not  once  alone.  95 
Att.  Is  it  that  none,  whom  thou  hast  sent,  re¬ 
gards  thee  ? 

And.  Whence  should  they  1  Wilt  thou  then  my 
message  bear  1 

Att.  W'hat  for  so  long  an  absence  shall  I  plead  1 
And.  Thou  art  a  woman,  and  wilt  find  excuse. 
Att.  ’Tis dangerous:  watchful  is  Hermione.  100 
And.  See,  in  their  ills  thou  canst  forsake  thy 
friends. 

Att.  Not  so ;  with  that  reproach  me  not :  I  go  : 
For  whate’er  vengeance  falls  on  me,  my  life 
(A  woman  and  a  slave)  is  little  worth. 

And.  Go  then,  this  instant  go  :  and  I  will  vent 
To  yon  ethereal  skies  my  griefs,  my  plaints,  106 
My  tears ;  for  women  are  by  nature  form’d 
To  feel  some  consolation,  when  their  tongue 
Gives  utterance  to  the  afflictions  they  endure. 

Mine  is  no  single  grief;  my  sorrows  flow  110 

From  various  sources  :  my  paternal  realm, 

My  slaughter’d  Hector,  and  my  ruthless  fate, 

Which  bows  me  to  the  yoke  of  servitude, 

Unworthy  fall,  I  mourn.  No  mortal  man 

May  therefore  be  call’d  happy,  till  you  see  115 

The  last  of  all  his  days,  and  how,  that  pass’d, 

He  to  the  realms  of  Pluto  shall  descend. 


ANDROMACHE. 


273 


A  pest,  and  not  a  bride,  to  Ilium’s  towers 
The  mischief-working  Helen  Paris  bore ; 

For  her,  in  arms  combined,  the  Grecian  powers  120 
Sought  with  a  thousand  ships  the  Phrygian  shore. 

On  thee,  0  Troy,  with  fire,  with  slaughter  falls, 

And  on  my  Hector,  swift  the  vengeful  war  : 

Him  the  proud  son  of  Thetis  round  the  walls 
Tlragg’d  in  the  dust,  as  roll’d  his  rapid  car.  125 

Beneath  the  hateful  yoke  of  slavery  bow’d, 

They  led  me  from  my  chamber  to  the  strand : 
Tears,  as  I  left  the  city,  copious  flow’d, 

Left  my  loved  husband  on  the  bloody  sand. 

Can  I  yet  wish  to  view  yon  radiant  sky,  130 

A  slave,  Hermione’s  harsh  pride  that  bears  ? 

From  which  a  suppliant  to  this  shrine  I  fly, 

And,  like  a  dropping  rock,  dissolve  in  tears. 

ANDROMACHE,  CHORUS. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I. 

0  thou,  who  on  the  ground,  before  the  shrine 

Of  Thetis,  power  divine,  135 

Long  seated,  wilt  not  quit  the  hallow’d  place ; 

From  Asia  though  thy  race, 

And  Phthia  claims  by  birth,  to  thee 
I  come,  if  aught  my  melting  heart  can  find 
To  ease  the  anguish  of  thy  tortured  mind ;  140 

Since  rage  inflames  Hermione, 

In  vengeance  bursting  on  thy  head, 

The  hated  rival  of  her  bed. 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

Thy  fortune  know :  reflect  what  ills  await 

Thy  present  hapless  state  :  145 

A  Trojan  dame,  with  those  how  hard  to  strive, 

From  Sparta  who  derive 
Their  race,  thy  lords  !  no  more  contend. 


274 


EURIPIDES. 


Avails  it,  at  their  rigour  though  dismay’d, 

That  soil’d  in  dust  thy  wasted  form  is  laid  !  150 

With  these,  who  here  resistless  reign, 

Weak  as  thou  art,  why  strive  in  vain  ? 

STROPHE  II. 

Depart  then  ;  quit  the  Nereid’s  splendid  seat ; 

And  know,  that  in  a  foreign  state 

Thou  art  a  slave  to  foes  ;  155 

’Mong  whom,  of  all  thy  former  train, 

Thou  canst  not  see  a  friend  remain, 

O  nymph  oppress’d  with  woes  ! 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

Yet  pity,  dame  of  Ilium,  knows  her  part, 

And  melts  for  thee  my  tender  heart ;  160 

But  silent  drops  the  tear, 

Lest  that  my  bosom  feels  thy  wo 
This  Jove-descended  queen  should  know: 

Our  lords’  stern  power  1  fear. 

HERMIONE,  ANDROMACHE,  CHORUS. 

Her.  With  these  resplendent  ornaments  of  gold 
Decking  my  tresses,  in  this  robe  array’d,  166 

W*hich  bright  with  various-tinctured  radiance  flames, 
Not  from  the  house  of  Peleus  or  Achilles 
A  bridal  gift,  I  come  :  in  Sparta  this 
From  Menelaus,  my  father,  I  received,  170 

With  a  rich  dowry :  therefore  I  may  speak 
Freely,  and  thus  to  you  address  my  words. 

Woman,  wouldst  thou,  a  slave,  beneath  the  spear 
A  captive,  keep  possession  of  this  house, 

And  drive  me  out  1  I,  through  thy  baleful  spells,  175 
Am  hated  by  my  husband,  for  my  bed 
Is  childless  :  dreadful  potency  the  dames 
Of  Asia  boast  in  charms  like  these:  but  thee 
I  will  from  such  restrain;  for  naught  this  house 
Of  sea-born  Thetis  shall  avail  thee,  naught  180 
Her  altar,  or  her  shrine  :  for  thou  shalt  die. 

But  should  some  god  or  mortal  save  thy  life, 

Thou  shalt  be  humbled  for  thy  former  pride, 


ANDROMACHE. 


275 

And  made  to  tremble,  crouching  at  my  knee, 

To  sweep  my  house,  to  sprinkle  crystal  dews  185 
From  golden  vases,  and  to  know  where  now 
Thou  art :  nor  Hector  here,  nor  Priam  reigns, 

Nor  is  this  Chryse,  but  a  Grecian  town. 

Thou  wretch,  so  void  of  feeling  is  thy  mind, 

That  thou  hast  dared  to  share  the  bed  of  him  190 
Whose  father  slew  thy  husband,  and  to  bear 
Children  to  him  that  from  his  murderer  sprung. 

But  such  are  all  the  rude  barbarian  race ; 

Father  with  daughter,  son  with  mother  weds, 
Brother  with  sister  ;  and  the  dearest  friends  195 
Rush  on  through  mutual  slaughter ;  no  restraint 
Of  law  they  know  :  these  customs  teach  not  here  : 
For  that  one  man  should  of  two  wives  be  lord, 
Honour  allows  not :  but  one  nuptial  bed 
Enjoying,  let  them  fondly  cherish  that,  200 

Whoe’er  without  disquiet  wish  to  dwell. 

Cho.  Our  sex,  to  jealousy  by  nature  prone, 
Brooks  not  a  rival  in  the  nuptial  bed. 

And.  Ah  1  what  an  ill  to  mortal  man  is  youth, 

And  most  to  him  whose  youth  no  justice  knows !  205 
But  much  1  fear  lest  that  to  be  thy  slave 
Excludes  me  from  the  liberty  of  speech, 

Though  I  have  much  to  say  which  Justice  prompts  : 
Nay,  should  my  plea  be  deem’d  of  weight,  I  fear 
Its  force  will  hence  be  lost;  that  they,  whose  pride 
Aspires  beyond  control,  ill  brook  the  speech  211 
Of  those  beneath  them,  though  with  reason  urged: 
Yet  will  I  not  be  wanting  to  myself. 

Say  then,  young  princess,  what  convincing  proof 
Persuades  thee  that  from  thy  connubial  bed  215 
I  drive  thee  :  is  the  Spartan  state  of  power 
Less  than  the  Phrygian  1  Me  dost  thou  behold 
By  fortune  raised  to  eminence,  or  free  ? 

Or  am  I  with  the  opening  bloom  of  youth, 

188  Chryse,  a  town  of  Cilicia,  under  the  dominion  of  Eetion, 
the  father  of  Andromache,  whose  royal  seat  was  at  Thebe. 


276 


EURIPIDES. 


Or  with  my  country’s  greatness,  or  with  friends  320 
Elate,  that  I  should  have  a  wish  to  keep 
Possession  of  thy  house  1  For  what  ?  That  I 
Should  be  a  mother  in  thy  place,  and  bear 
Sons  to  be  slaves,  a  miserable  train 
My  wretchedness  attending  ?  Who  my  sons,  225 
Shouldst  thou  be  childless,  would  permit  to  reign 
At  Phthia  ]  Me,  belike,  the  Grecians  love 
For  Hector’s  sake,  and  that  I  lived  obscure 
Among  the  Phrygians,  not  in  royal  state. 

My  spells  effect  not  that  thy  husband  hates  thee,  230 
But  thine  own  manners,  unaccording  found 
With  Love’s  sweet  converse  :  this  the  magic  charm. 
It  is  not  beauty,  lady,  that  delights 
The  husband’s  mind,  but  virtue’s  winning  force. 
Thee  if  aught  piques,  the  Spartan  state  is  high  235 
Extoll’d,  and  Scyros  held  by  thee  in  scorn, 

Thou  art,  ’mong  those  that  know  not  riches,  rich, 
And  Menelaus,  thy  father,  is  high  rank’d 
Above  Achilles  ;  for  this  waywardness 
Thy  husband  hates  thee.  It  becomes  the  wife,  240 
Though  to  a  bad  man  given,  to  hold  him  dear, 

Nor  raise  debates  through  peevishness  of  pride. 
Hadst  thou  in  Thrace,  wet  with  perpetual  snow, 
Some  tyrant  for  thy  husband,  where  one  man 
With  many  wives  shares  his  connubial  bed,  245 
Say,  wouldst  thou  kill  them  1  So  thou  wouldst  be 
found 

Unsated  appetite  in  all  thy  sex 
Encouraging :  how  shameful  this  !  We  feel 
This  passion  not  less  strong,  perhaps,  than  men, 

But  check  it  with  the  curb  of  modesty.  250 

O  my  loved  Hector,  I  for  thy  dear  sake 

Let  my  affection  go  with  thine,  if  e’er 

Venus  deceived  thee  ;  and  to  sons  so  born 

Oft  gave  this  breast,  that  naught  unkind  from  me 

236  Scyros,  an  island  in  the  Aegean  sea,  was  the  birth-plac# 
of  Neoptoleraus. 


ANDROMACHE. 


277 


Might  wound  thy  peace :  and  thus  my  husband’s 
love  .  255 

I  by  my  gentle  virtue  won.  But  thou 
Wilt  not  allow,  through  jealous  fear,  one  drop 
Of  Love’s  ethereal  dew  to  light  upon 
Thy  husband.  Seek  not,  lady,  to  surpass 
Jn  iove  of  man  thy  mother.  It  behooves  260 

Children,  if  wise,  such  manners  to  avoid, 

As  their  bad  mothers  mark’d  with  infamy. 

Cho.  Let  me  persuade  thee,  lady,  with  what  ease 
Thou  mayst,  to  end  this  strife  of  words  with  her. 

Her.  What  means  thy  arrogant,  contentious 
speech,  -  265 

Vaunting  thy  chastity,  and  censuring  mine? 

And.  The  subject  of  thy  speech  proves  thee  un¬ 
chaste. 

Her.  Ne’er  in  my  heart  be  harbour’d  thoughts  like 
thine. 

And.  Thou  art  young  yet :  indecent  is  thy  speech. 

Her.  Thou  not  by  words,  but  actions,  dost  me 
wrong.  270 

And.  In  silence  for  thy  bed  wilt  thou  not  grieve  1 

Her.  Doth  aught  more  nearly  touch  a  woman’s 
mind  1 

And.  And  well,  that  mind  when  modest  reason 
rules. 

Her.  Our  state  we  rule  not  by  barbaric  laws. 

And.  Ev’n  there  such  laws  are  base,  and  shameful 
here.  275 

Her.  O  thou  art  wise,  art  wise :  yet  thou  shalt 
die. 

And.  The  statue,  see,  of  Thetis  looks  on  thee ; — 

Her.  And  hates  thy  country  for  Achilles’  death. 

And.  Helen,  thy  mother,  caused  his  death,  not  I. 

Her.  Wilt  thou  through  all  their  course  trace  back 
my  ills  1  280 

And.  See,  I  am  silent,  nor  unlock  my  lips. 

Her.  Speak  that,  for  which  I  to  this  temple  came. 

Eurip.  Vol.  III. — A  a 


278 


EURIPIDES* 


And.  I  say  thou  hast  not  prudence  as  beseem 
thee. 

Her.  Wilt  thou  the  Nereid’s  hallow’d  temple 
leave  1 

And.  May  I  not  die  :  else  never  will  I  leave  it.  285 
Her.  Resolved,  I  wait  not  till  my  husband  comes. 
And.  Nor,  till  he  comes,  yield  1  myself  to  thee. 
Her.  I  will  bring  fire :  I  reck  not  of  the  place. 
And.  Then  burn  me  ;  but  these  things  the  gods 
will  see.  289 

Her.  Thy  body  shall  be  gash’d  with  painful 
wounds. 

And.  Kill  me,  pollute  the  altar  with  my  blood  ; 
The  goddess  will  avenge  the  impious  deed. 

Her.  Thou  savage  !  thou  barbarian !  of  a  soul 
Harden’d  to  boldness,  dost  thou  thus  brave  death  ? 
But  1  will  quickly  rouse  thee  from  this  seat,  295 
Thy  will  assenting  ; — such  a  charm  I  have, 

I  say  not  what :  the  effect  will  show  it  soon. 

Sit  firm  :  for  wert  thou  fix’d  in  melted  lead, 

I  will  remove  thee,  ere  the  Phthian  chief, 

In  whom  thy  confidence  is  placed,  returns.  300 

ANDROMACHE,  CHORUS. 

And.  In  him  my  confidence  indeed  is  placed. 
Strange,  that  to  mortals,  ’gainst  the  venom’d  bite 
Of  direful  serpents,  healing  medicines 
The  gods  have  given ;  yet  none  have  found  a  cure 
’Gainst  a  bad  woman,  than  the  viper  far  305 

More  noxious,  or  the  violence  of  fire ; 

So  pestilent  an  ill  are  we  to  men. 

•\  ’ 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  1. 

What  miseries  from  that  fatal  day 
Arose,  when  to  the  Idaean  grove 
The  son  of  Maia  and  of  Jove,  310 

298  Alluding  to  the  method  of  fixing  statues  on  their  pedestal*. 


ANDROMACHE. 


279 


Their  cars  attending  on  the  way, 

Guided  the  rivals  of  the  skies  ! 

The  cars  roll’d  on  their  splendid  state  ; 

But  with  them  Discord,  gendering  hate, 

And  contest  fierce  for  beauty’s  prize  :  315 

Onward  they  roll’d  in  evil  hour, 

And  reach’d  the  shepherd’s  lonely  bower, 
Where,  mid  his  flocks  that  grazed  around, 

The  solitary  youth  they  found. 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

Soon  as  they  reach’d  the  shady  grove,  320 
Undress’d,  their  shining  limbs  they  lave 
Amid  the  cool  translucent  wave, 

Which  tumbles  from  the  heights  above ; 

Then  to  the  son  of  Priam  came  ; 

And  each,  to  gain  the  envied  prize,  325 
Her  power  displaying,  proudly  vies 
With  offer’d  gifts  his  soul  to  inflame. 

But  Venus,  versed  in  winning  wiles, 

With  words  that  please  the  youth  beguiles ; 

But  fraught  with  mischief,  war,  and  fate,  330 
Destructive  to  the  Trojan  state. 

STROPHE  II. 

O,  had  his  mother,  on  the  fatal  day 
When  Paris  first  she  gave  to  light, 

Cast  the  pernicious  ill  away, 

Ere  he  had  fix’d  his  bower  on  Ida’s  height;  335 
When  from  the  laurel’s  hallow’d  shade 
Aloud  Cassandra  cried, — “  Destroy 
This  fatal  pest  of  Priam  and  of  Troy  !” 

Was  there  of  those,  whose  hoary  age 
Render’d  their  reverend  counsels  sage,  340 
To  whom  with  ardour  the  prophetic  maid 
Did  not  her  warning  prayers  apply, — 

“  Let  this  ill-omen’d  infant  die  1” 

ANTI8TR0PHE  II. 

The  Trojan  dames  then  Slavery  had  not  bound, 
Condemn’d  to  drag  her  galling  chain;  345 
Nor  thou  on  Phthia’s  hostile  ground 


280 


EURIPIDES. 


By  thy  proud  lords  been  taught  to  taste  of  pain  : 
Then  had  she  freed  the  Grecian  powers 
From  all  the  painful  toils  of  war, 

Which,  fired  with  vengeance,  from  their  country 
far,  350 

Our  youth,  inured  to  hardships,  bore 
In  arms  on  Troy’s  ensanguined  shore, 

And  fought  ten  tedious  years  around  her  towers  : 
No  tear  had  dew’d  the  widow’d  bed: 

No  father  mourn’d  his  children  dead.  355 

MENELAUS,  MOLOSSUS,  ANDROMACHE,  CHORUS. 

Men.  Thy  son,  placed  by  thee  in  another  house 
By  stealth,  to  escape  my  daughter’s  eye,  removed, 
I  bring.  Thy  boast  was  that  this  hallow’d  shrine, 
This  image  of  the  goddess,  would  to  thee 
Give  safety,  and  concealment  to  thy  son.  360 

But,  woman,  it  is  found  thy  close-laid  plans 
O’erreach  not  me  ;  and  if  this  sacred  ground 
Thou  dost  not  leave,  on  him  the  death  shall  fall, 
Thy  due  :  weigh  this  maturely  :  wilt  thou  die, 

Or  shall  he  perish,  for  the  heinous  deeds,  365 

With  which  my  daughter  thou  hast  wrong’d,  and 
me  1 

And.  Opinion,  O  opinion !  many  men 
Of  slightest  worth  hast  thou  uplifted  high 
In  life’s  proud  ranks.  That  glory,  which  by  truth 
Is  ratified,  I  reverence  ;  that,  which  springs  370 
From  erring  falsehood,  gives  no  solid  grace, 

The  wantonness  of  fortune  all  its  boast. 

Didst  thou,  once  marching  with  the  chiefs  of  Greece, 
Take  Troy  from  Priam,  abject  as  thou  art, 

Who,  at  thy  daughter’s  bidding,  art  thus  fierce  375 
Against  a  child,  and  vauntest  in  mean  strife 
With  an  unhappy  woman,  a  poor  slave  1 
Unworthy  thee  to  vanquish  Troy  1  deem, 

And  Troy  unworthy  by  thy  hand  to  fall. 

Those,  who  of  worth  the  semblance  only  wear,  380 


ANDROMACHE. 


281 


Have  splendid  outsides,  but  within  are  found 
Like  other  men,  save  what  of  eminence 
They  gain  from  wealth,  for  that  hath  mighty  power. 
But  let  us  make  this  wordy  contest  short: 

Should  I  beneath  thy  daughter  die,  should  she  385 
Destroy  me,  never  the  polluting  stain 
Of  blood  would  she  escape  ;  and  the  same  guilt 
Of  murder  by  the  many  will  on  thee 
Be  charged  ;  for,  sharing  in  the  deed,  of  guilt 
Thou  must  have  share.  But  if  myself  I  save,  390 
So  that  I  die  not,  will  you  slay  my  son? 

And  will  his  father  tamely  brook  his  death  ? 

Not  thus  unmanly  is  he  term’d  at  Troy. 

Occasion  hence  hath  call’d  him  ;  yet  his  deeds 
Worthy  of  Peleus,  worthy  of  his  sire  395 

Achilles  will  be  found  ;  and  he  will  drive 
Thy  daughter  from  his  house.  Her  shouldst  thou 
give  '  ■. 

Again  in  nuptial  rites,  what  wilt  thou  say  ? 

That  she,  of  mild  and  modest  manners,  flies 
From  a  bad  husband  ?  This  would  not  be  true.  400 
But  who  will  wed  her?  Wilt  thou  in  thy  house 
Keep  her  unwedded  till  her  widow’d  locks 
Are  hoary?  Wretched  man,  dost  thou  not  see 
In  what  a  torrent  ills  upon  thee  rush? 

How  many  women  wouldst  thou  wish  should  wrong 
Thy  daughter’s  bed,  ere  thou  endure  the  ills  406 
I  speak  of  ?  Ill  the  chastening  hand  pursues 
Small  things  with  heavy  vengeance  ; .  nor  ought  men, 
If  women  are  pernicious  pests,  to  form 
Their  nature  in  resemblance  of  our  sex.  410 

Whether  thy  daughter  1  with  baneful  drugs, 
Working  abortion,  as  she  says,  have  hurt, 

Free,  unconstrain’d,  not  seeking  at  this  shrine 
Protection,  to  be  tried  by  him  I  yield 
My  judge,  to  whom  in  marriage  thou  hast  join’d 
her;  415 

Nor  for  the  wrong  to  him,  for  that  his  bed 
I  render’d  childless,  is  less  vengeance  due 

A  a2 


282 


EURIPIDES. 


From  him.  Such  is  my  nature  :  but  from  thine 
I  have  one  fear;  thou  in  a  woman’s  cause 
Hast  ruin’d  the  unhappy  towers  of  Troy.  420 

Cho.  Thou  with  more  boldness,  than  a  woman 
ought 

To  men,  hast  spoken  :  thy  indignant  soul 
Bears  thee  beyond  the  bounds  of  modesty. 

Men.  Woman,  these  things  are  small,  and,  as  thou 
sayst, 

Beneath  my  royal  dignity,  beneath  425 

The  dignity  of  Greece  :  but  know  thou  this  ; 

What  our  necessities  demand  becomes 
Of  greater  moment  than  to  conquer  Troy. 

And  to  my  daughter  (for  of  moment  this 
I  deem),  that  of  her  bed  she  be  not  reft,  430 

My  aid  is  due:  all  else,  as  lighter  griefs, 

Well  may  a  woman  bear;  but  what  effects 
The  honour  of  her  bed,  affects  her  life. 

He  may  command  my  slaves ;  and  the  same  right 
I  and  my  daughter  have  o’er  his ;  for  friends,  435 
We  know  what  friendship  is,  no  private  claim 
Indulge,  but  each  with  each  in  common  share 
What  they  possess.  Should  I  neglect  to  arrange, 
Well  as  I  may,  my  business,  his  return 
Awaiting,  I  should  be  remiss,  not  wise.  440 

But  rise,  this  temple  of  the  goddess  quit, 

For,  if  thou  die,  thy  son  escapes  his  fate  ; 

If  thou  refuse  to  die,  him  will  I  slay: 

This  is  inevitable,  one  shall  die. 

And.  Dreadful  alternative  !  A  cruel  choice  445 
Hast  thou  allow’d  ;  unhappy,  if  I  choose  ; 

Not  choosing,  wretched  :  dreadful  this  !  O  thou, 

In  mighty  vengeance  for  slight  cause  severe, 

Hear  me:  Why  dost  thou  kill  me  ?  for  what  crime  ? 
What  town  have  I  betray’d  1  what  child  of  thine  450 
Have  I  made  bleed  1  what  house  have  I  with  flames 
Destroy’d  1  A  captive,  to  his  bed  my  lord 
Led  me  by  force :  yet  him  thou  wilt  nqt  slay 


ANDROMACHE.  283 

Who  wrought  the  offence,  but  me ;  and  from  the 
cause 

Unjustly  turn  thy  fury  on  the  event.  455 

Wretch  that  I  am,  what  miseries  weigh  me  down  ? 

O  my  unhappy  country  !  What  dire  ills 

I  suffer  !  What  behooved  it  me  again 

To  be  a  mother,  but  with  double  grief 

To  load  this  grief  1  What  joy  hath  life  for  me  1  460 

On  which  should  I  reflect,  my  present  state, 

Or  my  past  fortunes  1  Hector  I  have  seen 
Slaughter’d,  and  dragg’d  bound  to  the  rolling  car, 
And  Ilium  blazing  (piteous  sight!)  inflames. 

I  to  the  Grecian  fleet  was  borne  a  slave,  465 

Dragg’d  by  the  hair  ;  and,  when  I  reach’d  the  shore 
Of  Phthia,  was  compell’d  to  wed  his  son 
Who  slew  my  Hector.  But  my  former  woes 
Why  wail,  nor  rather  turn  my  mournful  thoughts, 
And  scan  my  present  ills  ?  I  had  one  son  470 
Yet  left,  a  beam  of  light  to  cheer  my  life  ; 

Him  they  will  kill  who  joy  in  things  like  these. 

But  for  the  sake  of  my  unhappy  life 
He  shall  not  die  ;  for  there  is  hope  in  him, 

If  he  shall  be  preserved  ;  and  not  to  give  475 

My  life  to  save  my  son’s,  in  me  were  base. 

Behold,  I  quit  the  altar,  to  your  hands 
(To  murder,  stab,  bind,  strangle  me)  resign’d. 

Thy  mother,  O  my  son,  that  she  may  save 

Thy  life,  descends  to  Pluto’s  dreary  realms.  480 

If  thou  escape  from  death,  remember  me, 

Thy  mother  ;  what  I  suffer’d,  how  I  died, 
Remember:  to  thy  father  when  thou  goest, 

Mid  thy  caresses  let  thy  warm  tears  flow, 

Hang  on  his  knees,  and  tell  him  all  my  wrongs: 

For  children  are  to  all  men  life  itself.  486 

If  he,  who  knows  not  what  a  parent  feels, 

Denies  this,  he  hath  less  of  anxious  care, 

But  mid  his. bliss  the  soul’s  best  pleasures  wants. 

Cho.  She  moves  my  pity  ;  for  misfortunes  raise 
A  sympathetic  grief  in  every  breast,  491 


284 


EURIPIDES. 


Though  the  poor  sufferer  be  of  foreign  race. 

Well  were  it,  king,  wouldst  thou  in  concord  join 
Her  and  thy  daughter,  that  her  griefs  may  cease. 
Men.  Seize  her,  slaves ;  bind  her  hands  ;  for  she 
shall  hear  495 

Words  of  no  pleasing  sound.  That  thou  mightst 
quit 

This  hallow’d  altar  to  the  goddess  raised, 

I  made  pretence  to  slay  thy  son,  and  thus 
Wrought  thee  to  come  into  my  hands,  to  death 
Devoted ;  for  most  surely  thou  shalt  die.  500 

But  of  thy  son  my  daughter  shall  decide, 

To  slay,  or  not  to  slay  him,  as  her  will 
Inclines  her.  But  go  thou  into  this  house, 

That  thou  mayst  learn  with  thy  opprobrious  taunts, 
Slave  as  thou  art,  no  more  to  insult  the  free.  505 
And.  Ah  !  by  thy  guile,  thy  fraud,  am  I  deceived. 
Men.  To  all  proclaim  it :  I  deny  it  not. 

And.  And  is  this  wisdom  on  Eurotas’  banks  1 
Men.  Ay,  and  at  Troy,  ill  actions  to  requite. 

And.  Hath  heaven  no  gods,  or  none  that  will 
avenge  1  510 

Men.  When  that  comes,  we  shall  bear  it :  thou 
shalt  die. 

And.  And  my  poor  child,  torn  from  my  sheltering 
wing  1 

Men.  No  :  of  his  life  my  daughter  shall  dispose. 
And.  Alas,  my  son,  how  shall  I  mourn  thy  fate  1 
Men.  What !  will  thy  hope  in  him  no  longer  live  ? 
And.  0,  ye  vile  Spartans  !  most  of  all  mankind  516 
By  all  the  world  detested,  train’d  in  wiles, 

Supreme  in  falsehoods,  artful  to  devise 
Whate’er  of  mischief,  dark  in  your  designs 
And  intricate,  unsafe,  your  thoughts  involved  520 
Maze  within  maze,  unjustly  hath  your  state 
This  eminence  in  Greece  !  What  is  not  yours 
Of  ill  effective  1  Are  you  not  distain’d 
With  frequent  murders,  and  intent  on  base 
And  shameful  gains  1  Are  you  not  always  found 


ANDROMACHE. 


285 


To  speak  one  thing,  while  other  purposes  526 
Are  in  your  hearts  conceal’d  ?  Perdition  on  you ! 
But  death  is  not  so  terrible  to  me 
As  thou  mayst  think  it :  me  disastrous  Fate 
Then  sunk,  when  Phrygia’s  hapless  city  fell,  530 
And  my  illustrious  husband,  whose  strong  spear 
Oft  made  thee  quit  the  embattled  field,  and  seek 
Sad  shelter  in  thy  ships  ;  but  standing  now 
A  dreadful  warrior  ’gainst  a  woman,  me 
Thou  killest :  kill  me  ;  never  shall  my  tongue  535 
Deign  with  soft  speech  to  sue  to  thee  for  grace, 

Nor  to  thy  daughter :  great  though  thou  art  now 
At  Sparta,  I  was  once  as  great  at  Troy  : 

If  Fortune  now  hath  bowed  me  to  the  dust,  539 
Vaunt  not ;  her  power  may  bow  thee  down  as  low. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I. 

Ne’er  the  divided  bed  of  love 
Shall  my  assenting  voice  approve. 

Wo  to  the  house,  O  man,  that  knows 
Sons  who  from  different  mothers  rose : 

The  sweet  domestic  joys  of  life  545 

Are  chased  away  by  tumult,  rage,  and  strife. 

One  bride  then  be  content  to  wed, 

Nor  let  a  rival  share  her  bed. 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

Nor  are  states  form’d  in  peace  to  obey 
Two  sceptres,  and  a  double  sway :  550 

Burden  on  burden  then  is  borne, 

And  the  vex’d  realm  with  faction  torn. 

Nay,  ’twixt  two  bards,  whose  raptured  song 
Rolls  the  full  tide  of  harmony  along, 

Discord  the  Muses  love  to  raise,  555 

Each  envious  of  the  other’s  praise. 

STROPHE  II. 

High  when  the  seas  with  boisterous  winds  arise, 
Less  safe  the  labouring  vessel  braves 
The  fury  of  the  swelling  waves, 


286  EURIPIDES. 

Where  many  strive  to  steer  her  course,  though  wise 
Than  if  one  pilot’s  care  presides,  561 

Though  with  less  skill  her  helm  he  guides. 
Confusion  from  divided  councils  flows  : 

The  house  one  lord  shall  best  obey: 

The  state  best  own  one  ruler’s  sway:  565 

Then  each  the  effect  of  prudent  guidance  knows. 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

This  truth  the  daughter  of  the  Spartan  king 
Shall  witness  ;  for  through  fire  and  flame 
To  enjoy  another’s  bed  she  came  : 

Then,  while  her  heart  vindictive  passions  sting,  570 
Rages  the  unhappy  dame  of  Troy, 

And  her  poor  infant  to  destroy, 

Wild  and  tempestuous  jealousy  is  found ; 

Nor  gods,  nor  laws,  nor  grace  it  heeds : 

Yet,  royal  lady,  for  these  deeds  575 

Repentance  shall  thy  soul  with  anguish  wound. 
Together  see  that  pair  before  the  house 
To  death  adjudged.  Unhappy  dame!  and  thou, 
Unhappy  son,  who  for  thy  mother’s  bed 
(Though  in  the  fault  no  share  is  thine,  nor  charge 
Of  aught  offending  ’gainst  thy  lords)  shalt  die.  581 
And.  Bound  in  these  galling  chains,  behold,  my 
hands 

Thus  bleeding,  I  am  sent  beneath  the  earth. 

Mol.  My  mother,  O  my  mother,  I  too  go, 
Beneath  thy  wing,  a  victim  to  their  hate.  585 

Ye  potent  lords  of  Phthia’s  realm,  0  come, 

My  father,  come,  and  aid  thy  suffering  friends ! 

And.  Thou,  my  loved  child,  on  thy  dead  mother’s 
breast, 

Beneath  the  earth  a  lifeless  corse  shalt  lie. 

Mol.  Ah  me,  unhappy  me,  what  wo  is  mine  !  590 
Thou  too,  my  mother,  hast  thy  share  of  wo. 

Men.  Hence  to  the  realms  of  darkness ;  for  you 
came 

From  hostile  towers :  beneath  a  twofold  force 
You  die ;  thy  doom  is  by  my  voice  denounced* 


ANDROMACHE.  267 

Afid  by  Hermione  thy  son’s:  the  height  595 

Of  madness  were  it  to  spare  foes  from  foes 
Descended,  when  the  power  presents  itself 
To  kill  them,  and  to  free  our  house  from  fear. 

And.  My  husband,  O  my  husband  !  noble  son 
Of  Priam  !  O  that  to  mine  aid  thy  hand  600 

Were  present  now,  and  thy  protecting  spear ! 

Mol.  Unhappy  me!  what  words,  what  suasive 
strain, 

Shall  I  now  find  of  power  to  avert  my  fate  ? 

And.  Go  to  thy  lord  ;  hang  on  his  knees,  my  son  ; 
With  suppliant  word  entreat  him’: 

Mol.  >  0,  be  kind,  605 

Be  kind  to  me — relent,  and  spare  my  life  ! 

And.  This  melts  me,  and  mine  eyes  are  moist 
with  tears, 

As  drops  the  sunless  rock  ;  Unhappy  me ! 

Mol.  What  shall  I  find  (ah  me  !)  what  remedy 
Effectual  to  relieve  me  from  my  ills  1  610 

Me;n.  Why  dost  thou  roll  thee  at  my  knees  1  why 
thus 

Address  thy  prayers  to  me  1  The  assailing  wave 
Moves  not  the  rock.  My  children  claim  my  aid  ; 
Nothing  of  tenderness  I  feel  for  thee  ; 

For  great  part  of  my  life  I  spent  to  take  615 

Troy  and  thy  mother  :  hershalt  thou  enjoy, 

And  with  her  to  the  infernal  Pluto  go. 

Cho.  The  royal  Pelcus  I  behold,  with  speed 
His  aged  foot  advancing  :  he  is  here. 

PELEUS,  MENELAUS,  ANDROMACHE,  MOLOSStfS,  CHORUS. 

Pel.  To  you  my  question  1  address,  and  thee  620 
Enforcing  slaughter,  what  means  this,  and  whence 
Proceeds  it  1  What  disease  infects  the  house  1 
Why,  ere  the  law  gives  sentence,  are  these  deeds 
Attempted  ?  Menelaus,  forbear,  nor  haste 
The  uncondemn’d  to  punish.  With  more  speed  625 
Lead  thou;  for  this  affair,  it  seems,  delay 
Admits  not.  Now,  if  ever,  1  could  wish 


288 


EURIPIDES. 


The  strength  of  youth  restored ;  but  in  her  sails 
First  I  will  breathe  a  favouring  gale.  Inform  me, 
What  justice  pleading,  these  have  bound  thy  hands 
In  chains,  and  lead  thee  and  thy  sons  away  :  631 

For  in  my  absence,  and  thy  lord’s,  to  death, 

Thee,  like  a  sheep,  with  her  poor  lamb,  they  drag. 

And.  Age-honour’d  king,  thus,  as  thou  seest,  they 
lead 

Me  and  my  son  to  death.  What  shall  I  say  1  635 

Not  one  alone,  but  many  messengers 
Earnest  I  sent  to  call  thee.  Thou  hast  heard, 
Perchance,  what  discord  rages  in  the  house, 

Raised  by  his  daughter  ;  and  for  this  I  die. 

Now  from  the  shrine  of  Thetis,  who  to  thee  640 
Brought  forth  thy  noble  son,  and  whom  thou  holdest 
In  reverence  high,  they  lead  me,  dragg’d  by  force, 
Nor  course  of  justice  hold,  nor  their  return 
Await  who  from  the  house  are  absent  now  ; 

But,  knowing  me  defenceless,  and  my  son,  645 
Whom,  though  in  naught  offending,  they  to  death 
Doom  with  his  wretched  mother.  But,  O  king, 

An  humble  suppliant  at  thy  knees  I  fall ; 

Thy  reverend  beard  these  chains  forbid  my  hand 
To  stroke :  protect  me,  by  the  gods,  I  beg  !  650 

O,  save  me  !  but  if  not,  my  death,  to  me 
Calamitous,  on  you  will  bring  disgrace. 

Pel.  Unbind  her,  I  command  you  ;  from  her  hands 
Take  off  the  chains,  or  some  of  you  shall  rue  it. 

Men.  And  I  forbid  it,  one  in  naught  to  thee  655 
Inferior,  but  o’er  her  of  greater  power. 

Pei,.  What !  art  thou  come  to  lord  it  in  my  house, 
O’er  those  at  Sparta  not  content  to  rule  ?  658 

Men.  At  Troy  she  was  the  captive  of  my  spear. 

Pel.  But  given  an  honour’d  prize  to  Phthia’s  chief. 

Men.  Have  I  not  power  o’er  his,  and  he  o’er  mine  ? 

Pel.  For  good,  not  ill,  nor  to  be  slain  by  force. 

Men.  Her  from  my  hand  thou  never  shalt  with¬ 
draw. 

Pel.  Beneath  this  sceptre  then  thy  head  shall 
bleed. 


ANDROMACHE. 


289 


Men.  Touch  me,  or  come  but  near  me,  thou  shalt 
know —  665 

Pel.  Shalt  thou  ’mong  men  be  reckoned,  thou 
most  vile, 

And  from  the  vile  descended  ?  What  hast  thou 
Of  manly,  by  a  Phrygian  who  thy  bride 
Didst  lose,  thy  house  unbarr’d,  unguarded  left, 

As  if  thy  wife,  the  worst  of  all  her  sex,  670 

Knew  what  discretion  was  1  Nor,  were  her  will 
Disposed,  could  one  of  Sparta’s  female  race 
Be  modest,  where  the  virgins  quit  the  house, 

And,  with  uncinctured  vests  and  naked  thighs, 

Mix  with  young  men  contending  in  the  race,  675 
And  share  the  athletic  sports,  not,  as  I  think, 

To  be  allow’d :  what  marvel  if,  thus  train’d, 

Your  daughters  are  not  chaste  1  This  should  be 
ask’d 

Of  Helen,  who  forsook  her  nuptial  bed, 

Wantonly  wandering  to  a  foreign  land  680 

With  a  young  stranger.  For  her  sake,  in  arms 
Assembled,  all  those  numerous  powers  of  Greece 
Thou  ledd’st  to  Troy :  her  with  disdain  to  quit 
Behooved  thee  more ;  and,  having  found  her  false, 
Not  to  have  stirr’d  a  spear,  but  let  her  there  685 
Remain  ;  nay,  ev’n  to  have  added  a  reward, 

That  thou  mightst  never  take  her  home  again. 

Yet  with  no  prosperous  gale  didst  thou  pursue 
Thy  fond  desire,  but,  many  noble  lives 
Destroy’d,  make  mothers  childless  in  their  house. 
And  hoary  fathers  of  their  generous  sons  691 

Deprive,  of  whom,  unhappy,  I  am  one : 

For  as  the  murderer  of  Achilles,  thee, 

Like  some  Tartarean  pest  that  joys  in  blood, 

I  view.  Unwounded  thee  alone  from  Troy  695 
Greece  saw  return’d  ;  and  in  their  splendid  case 
Thy  splendid  arms,  as  they  were  thither  borne, 
Brought  back.  Before  his  nuptials,  oft  my  voice 
Gave  him  monition  not  to  form  with  thee 
Eurip.  Yol.  III. — B  b 


290 


EURIPIDES. 


Alliance,  nor  receive  within  his  house  700 

From  a  bad  mother  one  that  had  her  birth  ; 

For  such  bring  with  them  all  their  mother’s  faults. 
Ye  wooers,  this  your  fix’d  attention  claims  ; 
Daughters  of  virtuous  mothers  make  your  brides. 
Besides,  thy  brother  basely  didst  thou  wrong,  705 
Impelling  him  most  foolishly  to  slay 
His  daughter ;  such  thy  fear  lest  thy  base  wife 
Thou  shouldst  not  gain.  When  thou  hadst  van¬ 
quish’d  Troy 

(For  that  I  now  must  mention),  and  thy  wife 
A  captive  was  deliver’d  to  thy  hands,  710 

Thou  didst  not  kill  her;  but  her  beauteous  breast 
Soon  as  thou  saw’st,  thou  threw’st  thy  sword  away, 
And  with  a  kiss  receivedst  her,  making  court 
To  the  unblushing  traitress,  thou  most  vile, 
Master’d  by  wanton  appetite  ;  and  next  715 

To  my  son’s  house  thou  earnest;  and,  spreading 
there 

Thy  ravage,  in  his  absence,  without  shame, 
Murder’st  a  wretched  woman,  and  her  son, 

Who,  though  of  spurious  birth,  shall  make  thee  rue, 
Ay,  and  thy  daughter  too,  your  base  attempt :  720 

For  oft  the  thirsty  land  will  teem  with  grain, 

Richer  than  harvests  on  a  deeper  soil ; 

And  of  the  spurious  sons  in  worth  excel 
Those  of  legitimate  birth.  Vaunt  not  thyself, 

But  bear  thy  daughter  hence.  A  man  allied  725 
To  one  of  meaner  rank,  if  faithful,  finds 
More  honour  than  from  those  who  proudly  boast 
Their  greatness :  but  to  nothing  hast  thou  claim. 
Cho.  The  tongue  from  small  beginnings  raises 
strife, 

Till  it  exceeds  all  bounds  ;  but  caution  curbs  730 
The  prudent  from  contention  with  their  friends. 

Men.  Why  of  the  aged  should  we  speak  as  wise, 
Once  with  sage  counsels  guiding  Greece  ?  When 
thou, 

The  honour’d  Peleus,  of  illustrious  birth 


ANDROMACHE.  291 

And  high  alliance,  utter’st  words  which  cast  735 
Shame  on  thyself,  and  high  reproach  on  us, 

For  a  barbaric  woman,  whom  to  chase 
Beyond  the  streams  of  Nile,  beyond  the  banks 
Of  Phasis,  nor  to  cease  exciting  me, 

Behooves  thee  more,  as  one  of  Asia’s  realms,  740 
Where  many  sons  of  Greece  lie  stretch’d  in  death 
Beneath  the  spear,  not  guiltless  of  the  blood 
Of  thy  brave  son  ;  for  Paris,  by  whose  hand 
Thy  son  Achilles  fell,  was  Hector’s  brother ; 

She  Hector’s  wife  ;  yet  dost  thou  deign  with  her 
Beneath  one  roof  to  lodge,  with  her  to  share  746 
One  table,  and  permittest  her  to  bear 
Sons  in  the  house  most  hateful  to  my  soul. 

Her,  through  my  provident  care  for  thee,  old  man, 
And  for  myself,  when  1  would  put  to  death,  750 
She  from  my  hands  is  forced  away.  But  come, 

To  reason  with  thee  naught  of  base  infers, 

Naught  of  reproach.  If  from  my  daughter  springs 
No  child,  and  sons  sprout  from  her  bed,  the  lords 
Of  Phthia  wilt  thou  make  them!  Shall  they  reign 
O’er  Grecians,  they,  sprung  from  barbaric  race !  756 
Am  1  unwise  then  hating  things  unjust, 

And  hast  thou  claim  to  wisdom  1  Nay,  revolve 
This  in  thy  mind :  thy  daughter  hadst  thou  given 
In  marriage  to  some  youth  of  Phthia’s  realm,  760 
Had  she  been  treated  thus,  wouldst  thou  sit  down 
In  silence  !  Otherwise  of  thee  I  deem. 

Yet  for  a  stranger, ’gainst  thy  friends,  allied 
By  nearest  ties,  reproaches  dost  thou  vent. 

The  wife  hath  with  the  husband  equal  right,  765 
If  wrong’d  by  him  ;  save  that  the  man,  whose  house 
Is  by  his  wife’s  immodest  folly  shamed, 

In  his  own  hands  hath  ample  power  ;  but  she 
Seeks  through  her  parents  and  her  friends  redress. 
Just  is  it  then  that  I  my  daughter  aid.  770 

Old  age,  old  age  is  on  thee :  when  thy  tongue 
Mentions  the  martial  powers  I  led  to  war, 

More  honour  than  from  silence  I  receive. 


292 


EURIPIDES. 


The  offence  of  Helen  sprung  not  from  her  will, 

But  from  the  gods ;  yet  this  to  Greece  hath  wrought 
Advantage  high,  and  raised  her  sons,  before  776 
Unskill’d  in  arms  and  inexpert  in  war, 

To  martial  prowess  ;  for  each  science  best 
Man  from  experience  learns.  If,  when  my  wife 
Was  brought  into  my  sight,  1  check’d  my  hand,  780 
And  slew  her  not,  my  mind  obey’d  the  rule 
Of  temperate  wisdom  ;  and  I  wish  thy  hand, 

Had  not  slain  Phocus.  These  things  have  1  urged 
At  large,  benevolent  to  thee,  old  man, 

And  not  through  anger :  but  if  rage  inflames  785 
Thy  mind,  the  intemperance  of  thy  tongue  may 
rise 

Yet  higher ;  me  a  provident  care  avails. 

Cho.  Forbear  these  vain  and  angry  words,  for  this 
Were  better  far,  lest  both  be  in  the  wrong. 

Pel.  How  ill  this  custom  hath  through  Greece 
obtain’d  790 

A  sanction  !  When  the  trophies  of  their  foes 
A  conquering  host  erects,  they  are  not  deem’d 
The  achievement  of  their  hands  who  toil’d  in  fight ; 
But  the  renown  their  leader  bears  away, 

Who  amid  thousands  shook  a  single  spear,  795 
Nor  more  than  one  perform’d  ;  yet  he  obtains 
More  glory.  So  instates,  those  who  sit  high, 

To  civil  power  exalted,  swell  in  thought, 

As  wiser  than  the  people,  though  to  worth 
They  have  no  claim,  for  thousands  might  be  found 
’Mong  these  more  wise,  had  they  but  confidence,  801 

783  Phocus  was  also  the  son  of  Abacus.  Pausanias  mentions 
his  tomb,  and  says  that  a  rough  stone  lies  on  it ;  the  same 
which  Peleus  and  Telamon  used  for  a  disk  in  the  exercises  of 
the  pentathlon,  to  which  they  had  invited  their  brother  :  when 
Peleus  in  his  turn  came  to  try  his  strength,  he  designedly 
hurled  this  stone  against  Phocus,  and  killed  him.  Peleus  and 
Telamon  committed  this  base  action  to  gratify  their  mother, 
who  was  the  daughter  of  Sciron.  The  mother  of  Phocus  was 
the  sister  of  Thetis. 


ANDROMACHE. 


293 


And  will  to  show  their  powers :  in  proof  of  this, 
Thou  and  thy  brother  your  high  state  assume, 
Elated  by  your  proud  command  in  arms, 

And  triumph  over  Troy,  by  the  brave  deeds  805 
And  toils  of  others  raised.  But  I  will  show  thee, 
That  not  Idaean  Paris  I  esteem 
A  greater  foe  of  Peleus,  if  this  house 
Thou  quit  not  with  all  speed,  and  take  with  thee 
Thy  childless  daughter ;  else  the  chief  from  me  810 
Descended  hence  will  drive  her,  by  the  hair 
Dragg’d  through  his  house.  A  mother’s  joys  to  her 
Unknown,  the  fruitful  bed  she  will  not  brook  : 

But  shall  she  make  us  childless,  through  mischance 
If  with  a  child  she  never  hath  been  bless’d?  81 
Stand  from  her,  slaves,  that  I  may  know  who  dares 
Oppose  me,  while  I  free  her  hands  from  chains. 
Hold  up  thy  head,  and  be  assured  that  I, 

Though  trembling,  will  untie  these  twisted  bonds. 
O,  thou  most  vile,  thus  couldst  thou  gall  these  hands  1 
Some  bull  or  lion,  didst  thou  w  een,  in  links  821 
Thus  strain’d  to  bind  ?  or  fear  lest  she  should  seize 
A  sword,  and  drive  thee  off?  Come  hither,  child* 
Beneath  my  arms  unbind  thy  mother’s  chains : 

In  Phthia  will  I  nurture  thee,  to  these  825 

A  mighty  foe.  Except  your  boast  in  arms, 

Your  martial  pride,  you  Spartans  in  naught  else 
An  excellence  unknown  to  others  claim. 

Cho.  Old  age  is  hasty,  soon  to  choler  moved, 
And,  while  that  lasts,  impatient  of  control.  830 
Men.  Thou  to  reproach  with  headlong  rage  art 
borne  ; 

But  I  at  Phthia  will  by  violence 
Do  nothing  wrong,  nor  bear  it.  A  long  stay 
My  leisure  now  allows  not:  I  return: 

For  near  to  Sparta  is  a  state  once  join’d  835 

In  friendly  league,  now  bent  on  hostile  deeds: 
’Gainst  this  my  warlike  forces  will  I  lead, 

And  bend  them  to  obedience  :  all  things  there 
Establish’d  as  I  would,  I  will  with  speed 

Bb2 


294 


EURIPIDES. 


Revisit  Phthia,  and,  its  chief  return’d,  840 

Inform  him  face  to  face  what  are  my  thoughts, 

And  be  inform’d  what  his  are  :  if  inclined 
To  punish  her,  and  show  respect  to  us 
In  future,  like  respect  shall  he  receive 
If  angry,  he  shall  find  an  anger  high  845 

As  his,  and  deeds  responding  to  his  deeds. 

What  thou  canst  say  I  bear  unmoved  ;  a  voice 
Indeed  is  thine;  but,  as  a  shadow  void 
Of  active  power,  thou  canst  do  naught  but  talk. 

Pel.  Go  forward,  child,  beneath  my  sheltering 
arms,  850 

And  thou,  unhappy  dame :  the  raging  storm 
Escaped,  in  harbour  thou  art  now  secure. 

And.  0  reverend  king,  may  the  gods  pour  on  thee 
Their  blessings,  and  on  thine,  for  that  my  son, 

And  me,  a  wretched  woman,  from  base  wrong  855 
Thou  hast  protected :  yet  take  heed,  lest  now, 
Crouching  in  ambush,  on  the  desert  road 
By  force  they  bear  me  off,  thy  hoary  age 
Perceiving,  and  my  weakness,  and  my  son 
An  infant :  weigh  these  things,  lest  our  escape  860 
Avail  us  nothing,  if  hereafter  seized. 

Pel.  Do  not  enforce  a  woman’s  fears  on  me. 

Go :  who  shall  touch  you  ?  He  who  dares  shall 
weep : 

For  (so  the  gods  have  graced  me)  troops  of  horse, 
And  numerous  foot  at  Phthia  I  command.  865 
I  too  am  firm  in  strength,  nor,  as  thou  deem’st, 

With  years  enfeebled  :  should  I  only  look 
On  such  a  man,  old  as  I  am,  of  him 
A  trophy  I  should  raise  :  for  many  youths 
An  old  man,  if  his  courage  glows,  excels.  870 
A  dastard,  what  doth  strength  of  limb  avail? 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE. 

’Twere  better  not  to  have  been  born, 

If  we  derive  not  our  pure  blood 


ANDROMACHE. 


295 


From  honour’d  parents  great  and  good, 
Whose  splendid  house  rich  stores  adorn.  875 
The  nobly-born  against  the  storms  of  fate 

Find  friendly  powers  to  guard  their  state  : 
Honour  and  fame  the  great  and  good  attend, 

Nor  with  their  life  their  glories  end, 

Not  Time  itself  hath  force  to  efface  880 

Immortal  Virtue’s  radiant  grace. 

ANTISTROPHE. 

’Twere  better  conquest  not  to  gain, 

Where  evil  fame  attends  its  course ; 

W'hen  malice  and  unrighteous  force 
Proud  o’er  insulted  Justice  reign.  885 

This  may  be  sweet  to  man  for  one  brief  day ; 

The  next  its  glories  fade  away, 

And  infamy  breathes  baleful  blasts  around. 

Glorious  that  house,  that  state  is  found, 

Where  power  usurps  no  harsh  command,  890 
Till  awful  Justice  arms  its  hand. 

EPODE. 

Age-honour’d  king,  whose  generous  blood 
Derives  from  jEacus  its  source  ; 

Thou,  when  the  Lapithae  embattled  stood, 

And  the  fierce  Centaurs  shook  the  dreadful  spear, 
Stood’st  foremost  in  the  dangerous  war,  896 
Dauntless  in  arms  to  quell  their  monstrous  force. 

'  Thee  to  the  gallant  Argo  bore 
The  black,  inhospitable  Euxine  o’er, 

Through  clashing  rocks,  whose  threatening  brow 
Frowns  o’er  the  roaring  deep  below.  901 

When  first  Alcides  to  the  ground 
Vindictive  bow’d  Troy’s  rampired  pride, 

And  spread  the  raging  slaughter  wide, 

Was  Peleus  then  inactive  found  1  905 

Eurotas  heard  thy  honour’d  name 
Equall’d  with  Jove’s  illustrious  son’s  in  fame. 


906  A  river  of  Thessaly 


296 


EURIPIDES. 


FEMALE  ATTENDANT,  CHORUS. 

Att.  My  much-loved  friends,  how  ills  succeed  to 
ills 

This  day  !  My  royal  mistress  in  the  house, 
Hermione,  forsaken  by  her  father,  910 

And  conscious  of  her  deeds,  the  attempt  to  kill 
Andromache  and  her  poor  child,  is  bent 
To  die,  her  husband  fearing,  lest  with  shame 
She  from  the  house,  for  what  is  done,  be  driven, 

Or  suffer  death,  intending  death  to  those  915 

Whom  it  had  ill  beseem’d  her  to  have  slain. 

Scarce  from  the  fatal  noose  the  slaves,  her  guards, 
Restrain  her,  from  her  hand  scarce  wrench  the 
sword ; 

Such  deep  despondence  rends  her  trembling  heart, 
Conscious  of  deeds  which  honour  cannot  own.  920 
I  am  quite  spent,  my  friends,  restraining  her 
From  acts  of  desperation :  go  you  in, 

And  save  her  from  her  violent  attempts  ; 

For  with  more  influence  the  new-arrived 
.Enforce  persuasion,  than  domestic  friends.  925 
Cho.  The  cry  of  the  attendants  in  the  house 
We  hear,  thy  words  confirming;  and  she  soon, 
Unhappy  lady,  will  give  proof  how  high 
Her  sorrow  swells  for  her  atrocious  deeds  ; 

For  forth  she  rushes,  from  her  servants’  hands  930 
Bursting  by  force  ;  such  her  desire  to  die. 

HERMIONE,  ATTENDANT,  CHORUS. 

Her.  O,  wretched,  wretched  me  !  thus  will  I  rend 
My  tresses  ;  with  my  nails  thus  tear  my  cheeks. 
Att.  What  wilt  thou  do,  my  child  ?  destroy  thy 
form! 

Her.  Thus  from  my  hair  my  finely-textured  veil 
I  rend,  and  toss  it  to  the  winds  of  heaven.  936 
Att.  Cover  thy  breasts,  my  child ;  compose  thy 
robes. 

Her.  Why  should  I  cover  with  my  robes  my 
breasts  1 


ANDROMACHE. 


297 


What  I  have  done  is  to  my  husband’s  eye 
Uncover’d,  unconceal’d,  conspicuous,  clear.  940 

Att.  Springs  from  thy  rival’s  purposed  death  thy 
grief? 

Her.  That  hostile,  that  audacious  deed  distracts 
My  soul :  ah  me,  accursed,  by  men  accursed ! 

Att.  Thy  husband  will  forgive  thee  that  offence. 

Her.  Ah,  from  my  hands  why  didst  thou  wrest 
the  sword  ?  945 

Give  it  me  back,  give  it  me  back,  my  friend, 

That  I  may  plunge  it  deep  into  my  breast. 

Why  from  the  strangling  cord  dost  thou  restrain 
me  ? 

Att.  Should  I  then  leave  thee,  reft  of  sense,  to 
die? 

Her.  Alas,  my  fate  !  Where  is  the  welcome  flame 
That  blazes  to  consume  me  ?  From  what  height  951 
Shall  I  plunge  headlong  in  the  sea  beneath, 

Or  cast  me  from  the  mountain’s  woody  steep, 

That  I  may  die,  and  join  the  pitying  shades  ? 

Att.  Why  this  impassion’d  grief?  Affliction 
knows  955 

Its  hour,  Heaven-sent,  all  mortals  to  attend. 

Her.  My  father,  thou  hast  left  me,  left  me  here, 
Like  a  wreck’d  vessel,  destitute  of  oars, 

Driven  on  the  lonely  strand  ;  and  ruin  soon, 

Ruin  will  reach  me.  In  that  house,  which  once  960 
A  bride  I  enter’d,  I  shall  dwell  no  more. 

A  suppliant,  to  whose  statues  shall  I  fly  ? 

Or,  sentenced  to  quit  Phthia,  fall  a  slave 
At  a  slave’s  knees  ?  0,  that  I  were  a  bird 

Of  dusky  wing,  or  the  swift  bark,  which  first  965 
Braved  the  rough  Euxine,  and  its  clashing  rocks ! 

Att.  Thy  violence,  my  child,  I  did  not  praise 
Before,  which  wrong’d  the  Trojan  dame;  nor  now 
That  violence  of  fear  which  shakes  thy  soul. 

Now  will  thy  husband  thy  alliance  spurn,  970 
Persuaded  by  the  insidious,  glozing  words 
Of  a  barbaric  woman ;  for  he  holds  thee 


298 


EURIPIDES. 


Not  as  a  prize  of  war  from  conquer’d  Troy. 

The  daughter  of  a  man  for  worth  renown’d, 

With  a  rich  dowry,  from  a  state  that  boasts  975 
No  small  degree  of  glory,  as  his  bride 
Thee  he  received.  Nor  will  thy  father  thus 
Betray  thee,  as  thy  fears  suggest,  my  child, 

Nor  let  thee  suffer  wrong.  But  go  thou  in ; 
Thyself  to  public  view  before  the  house  980 

Expose  not,  lest  thou  wake  reproach,  my  child. 

Cho.  This  way  with  hasty  steps  a  stranger  bends  ; 
His  habit  marks  him  from  some  foreign  land. 

ORESTES,  HERMIONE,  CHORUS. 

Ores.  Ye  female  strangers,  say,  is  this  the  house, 
The  royal  mansion  of  Achilles’  son  1  985 

Cho.  It  is  :  but  this  inquiring,  who  art  thou  1 
Ores.  The  son  of  Agamemnon  and  his  queen ; 

My  name  Orestes ;  to  the  oracle 
Of  Dodonaean  Jove  I  hold  my  way. 

Since  I  am  come  to  Phthia,  where  resides  990 
A  lady  near  allied  to  me  by  blood, 

Whether  she  lives,  and  Fortune’s  favouring  smile 
Enjoys,  affection  prompts  me  to  inquire: 

Hermione  of  Sparta;  though  she  dwells 
In  realms  from  us  remote,  she  yet  is  dear.  995 
Her.  O  son  of  Agamemnon,  from  the  storm 
Thou  art  a  harbour  to  the  labouring  bark : 

An  humble  suppliant  at  thy  knees  I  beg. 

Have  pity  on  me,  for  thou  seest  my  state 

Not  happy  ;  ’round  thy  knees  my  arms  I  twine,  1000 

Not  of  less  potency  than  hallow’d  wreaths. 

Ores.  Ha!  What  means  this?  Doth  some  illu¬ 
sion  mock 

My  sense,  or  Phthia’s  queen  do  I  behold 
Indeed,  the  daughter  of  the  Spartan  king? 

Her.  Me,  and  me  only  in  my  father’s  house,  1005 
Be  thou  assured,  did  Spartan  Helen  bear. 

Ores.  O  Phcebus,  healing  power,  relieve  these 
ills! 


ANDROMACHE. 


299 


Plow  thy  afflictions  from  the  gods,  or  men  1 

Her.  Some  from  myself,  and  from  my  husband 
some, 

Some  from  the  gods  :  on  all  sides  ruin  threats.  1010 
Ores.  Whence  to  a  woman,  who  no  child  hath 
borne, 

Can  sorrow  rise,  save  for  her  injured  bed"? 

Her.  Thence  is  my  grief :  well  dost  thou  prompt 
my  tongue. 

Ores.  Another  loves  thy  lord,  estranged  from 
thee  1 

Her.  The  captive  wife  of  Hector  shares  his  bed. 
Ores.  This  is  foul  wrong,  that  one  man  takes  two 
wives.  1016 

Her.  Ev’n  thus  it  is ;  and  then  I  sought  revenge. 
Ores.  On  her  a  woman’s  vengeance  didst  thou 
seek  ? 

Her.  Death  to  herself,  and  to  her  spurious  son. 
Ores.  Is  she  then  slain,  or  snatch’d  by  chance 
from  death  1  1020 

Her.  By  Peleus,  favouring  her  unrighteous  cause. 
Ores.  Hadst  thou  who  bore  in  this  attempt  a  share? 
Her.  My  father,  who  for  this  from  Sparta  came. 
Ores.  Was  he  defeated  by  the  old  man’s  hand  ? 
Her.  By  shame  :  forsaken  he  hath  left  me  here. 
Ores.  Thy  husband  for  the  attempt,  I  see,  thou 
fearest.  1026 

Her.  Welldost  thou  judge;  for  me  he  will  destroy, 
And  justly  :  what  behooves  me  else  to  say  ? 

But  I  conjure  thee,  and  invoke  high  Jove, 

From  whom  we  draw  our  race,  convey  me  far,  1030 
Far  from  this  land,  or  to  my  father’s  house; 

For  ev’n  these  walls,  had  they  a  voice,  I  think, 
Would  drive  me  hence ;  and  all  the  realm  of  Phthia 
Detests  me.  Leaving  the  oracular  shrine 
Of  Phoebus,  should  my  husband  first  return  1035 

Home,  he  will  kill  me  for  my  shameful  deeds  ; 

Or  to  the  spurious  bed,  o’er  which  my  power 
Was  sovereign  once,  I  shall  be  made  a  slave. 


300 


EURIPIDES. 


Ores.  What  led  thee  then  (forgive  the  word)  to 
offend  1 

Her.  The  converse  of  bad  women  ruin’d  me,  1040 
Who  oft  address’d  me  with  this  unsound  speech 
“  Wilt  thou  permit  a  captive,  a  base  slave, 

To  dwell  beneath  thy  roof,  and  share  thy  bed  1 
By  heaven’s  dread  empress,  in  my  house  the  light 
Of  yon  bright  sun  a  rival  should  not  see.”  1045 
I  to  these  sirens  lent  my  easy  ears, 

These  specious,  versatile,  insidious  pests, 

And  raised  to  folly’s  gale  my  swelling  thoughts  : 

For  why  behooved  it  me  with  awe  to  view  1049 
My  husband  1  All  things,  which  became  my  state, 
Were  mine  ;  abundant  wealth  was  mine  ;  my  house 
I,  as  it  pleased  me,  ruled ;  I  might  have  borne 
Legitimate  offspring,  while  her  sons  to  mine 
Had  been  half-slaves.  But  never  (more  than  once 
Let  me  repeat  it),  never  let  the  wise  1055 

Give  females  license  to  frequent  his  house, 

And  hold  free  converse  with  his  wife  ;  for  these 
To  ill  are  shrewd  instructers :  through  the  hope 
Of  sordid  lucre,  one  corrupts  his  wife  ; 

One,  who  hath  fallen  from  virtue,  like  herself  1060 
Wishes  to  make  her  vile  ;  and  many  urge, 

Through  wanton  frowardness,  their  pleas  to  ill : 
Hence  the  pure  fountain  of  domestic  bliss 
The  husband  finds  polluted  :  these  against 
Let  him  guard  well  his  gates  with  locks  and  bolts ; 
For  nothing  good  these  female  visitants  1066 

Work  by  their  converse,  but  abundant  ill. 

Cho.  ’Gainst  thine  own  sex  too  freely  hath  thy 
tongue 

Inveigh’d  ;  yet  this  may  be  forgiven  thee  now : 

But  woman  woman’s  nature  should  commend.  1070 
Ores.  Wisdom  was  his,  who  first  instructed  man 
In  person  of  affairs  to  be  inform’d. 

I,  knowing  the  confusion  of  this  house, 

And  all  the  variance  ’twixt  thee  and  the  wife 
Of  Hector,  waited  not,  with  cold  regard  1075 


ANDROMACHE. 


301 


Attending,  to  be  told  thy  will,  if  here 
To  abide,  or,  dreading  with  well-grounded  fear 
A  captive  woman,  to  withdraw  thee  hence  ; 

But  came,  not  waiting  thy  commands,  if  such 
Thy  cause  of  grief  as  I  have  heard  from  thee,  1080 
To  bear  thee  from  this  house ;  for  thou  wast  mine 
Before,  though  by  thy  father’s  falseness  now 
Thou  dwellest  with  this  man  ;  for,  e’er  he  march’d 
Against  the  Trojan  state,  to  me  he  pledged 
Thy  hand  in  marriage  ;  afterward  to  him,  1085 
Who  calls  thee  now  his  wife,  he  promised  thee, 

If  he  would  lay  the  towers  of  Troy  in  dust. 

To  Phthia  when  the  victor  chief  return’d, 

Him  (for  thy  father  patient  I  forgave) 

Thy  nuptials  to  relinquish  I  implored,  1090 

Urging  my  fortunes,  and  the  vengeful  powers 
Who  then  afflicted  me  ;  that  I,  perchance, 

Among  my  friends,  by  blood  allied,  might  wed 
A’grace,  from  strangers  to  an  outcast  wretch, 
Outcast  like  me,  not  easily  indulged  1095 

My  suit  his  fiery  insolence  rejects, 

Upbraids  me  with  the  murder  of  my  mother, 

And  the  grim  visaged  Furies.  In  despair 
(For  then  the  fortunes  of  my  house  were  low), 

I  grieved  indeed,  but  silent  bore  my  grief,  1100 
With  my  afflictions  sunk,  and  went  away, 

Of  thee,  against  my  soul’s  warm  wish,  deprived. 

But  now,  since  thou  hast  found  a  wayward  change 
Of  fortune,  and  thy  heart  desponding  sinks, 

I  from  this  house  will  lead  thee,  guard  thee  well,  1105 
And  give  thee  to  thy  father’s  hand  ;  for  strong 
The  bond  of  kindred  ;  and  in  ills  no  zeal 
Is  warmer  than  a  friend’s  by  blood  allied. 

Her.  To  what  concerns  my  marriage  with  due 
care 

My  father  will  attend :  it  is  not  mine  1110 

That  to  determine.  But  with  quickest  speed 
Convey  me  hence  ;  lest,  should  he  first  return, 

My  lord  prevent  me  ;  or,  should  Peleus  learn 


302 


EURIPIDES. 


From  his  son’s  house  that  I  have  made  escape, 

He  with  his  fleetest  horse  pursue  my  flight.  1115 
Ores.  Let  not  the  old  man’s  power  alarm  thy  fears ; 
Nor  dread  Achilles’  son,  whose  fiery  pride 
Insulted  me:  the  entangling  toils  of  fate, 

Through  which  he  cannot  burst,  are  by  this  hand 
Fix’d  against  him  :  these  1  explain  not  now,  1120 
But  their  effect  the  Delian  rock  shall  know. 

This  murderer  of  his  mother,  if  the  oaths 
Of  my  brave  friends  hold  in  the  Pythian  land 
Their  faith,  shall  show  him  he  did  wrong  to  wed 
One  first  to  me  betrothed  ;  and  he  shall  rue  1125 
His  call  for  vengeance  for  his  father’s  death 
On  royal  Phoebus  ;  nor  avails  him  now 
His  thought  to  reverence  changed  ;  for  by  the  god, 
And  through  my  just  resentment,  he  shall  die 
A  wretched  death,  and  feel  my  enmity ;  1130 

For  the  god  gives  the  fate  of  foes  to  change 
Reversed,  nor  pride’s  aspiring  thoughts  endures. 

CHORUS. 

STROPHE  I. 

0  Phoebus,  who  round  Ilium’s  lofty  town 

With  towers  the  rampired  walls  didst  crown  , 
And  thou,  dread  monarch  of  the  main,  1135 
By  azure  steeds  whirl’d  o’er  thy  watery  reign ; 

To  ruin  why  those  towers  consign, 

The  labour  of  your  hands  divine  1 
Why  to  the  war-skill’d  Mars  a  prey, 

The  wretched,  wretched  Troy  betray?  1140 

ANTISTROPHE  I. 

You  on  the  banks  of  Simois  to  the  car 
Yoked  many  a  courser  train’d  to  war ; 

You  caused  the  purple  fight  to  glow, 

From  which  no  laurel  graced  the  warrior’s  brow. 
The  Dardan  monarchs  are  no  more  ;  1145 

Low,  low  they  lie,  distain’d  with  gore. 

In  Troy  from  blazing  altars  rise 
No  clouds  of  incense  to  the  skies. 


ANDROMACHE. 


303 


STROPHE  II. 

Low  is  the  son  of  Atreus  laid  ; 

By  his  wife’s  hand  his  blood  was  spilt ;  1150 
And  for  his  blood  her  life  she  paid, 

Her  son  the  avenger  of  her  guilt. 

The  god,  the  god,  with  dread  command 
Arm’d  ’gainst  her  life  his  chastening  hand : 

The  son  obey’d  the  oracular  shrine:  1155 

He  did  the  deed, 

Then  fled  with  speed, 

And  in  the  hallow’d  temple  stain’d  with  blood 
The  murderer  of  his  mother  stood. 

Can  this  be  true,  0  Phoebus,  power  divine !  1160 

ANTISTROPHE  II. 

In  Greece  how  many  mothers  sigh, 

And  pour  the  joyless  notes  of  wo, 

Wailing  their  hapless  sons,  that  lie 
Beneath  the  Phrygian  rampires  low  ! 

And  many  from  their  widow’d  bed  1165 

Distress’d  to  other  mansions  fled. 

On  Greece,  on  Greece  the  tempest  fell : 

Nor  thine  alone 
To  heave  the  groan, 

Nor  thy  friends  only  did  its  rage  destroy ;  1170 

But  o’er  the  fertile  fields  of  Troy 
Roll’d,  dropping  blood,  the  thundering  storm  of  hell. 

PELEUS,  CHORUS. 

Pel.  To  my  inquiry,  dames  of  Phthia,  give 
Faithful  reply  :  for  rumour  wide  hath  spread, 
Though  indistinct  the  tale,  that  from  this  house  1175 
The  daughter  of  the  Spartan  king  is  fled. 

Through  strong  desire  to  know  if  this  be  true, 

I  come  :  the  fortunes  of  their  absent  friends 
Those  who  remain  at  home  should  make  their  care. 
Cho.  What  thou  hast  heard,  O  king,  is  true  ;  nor 
me  1180 

Becomes  it  to  conceal  the  ills,  which  round 
Enclose  me :  from  the  house  the  queen  is  fled. 


304 


EURIPIDES. 


Pel.  Of  what  afraid  ?  Relate  to  me  the  whole. 
Cho.  Dreading  her  husband,  lest  he  hence  should 
chase  her. 

Pel.  For  her  severe  design  to  kill  his  son!  1185 
Cho.  She  further  fear’d  the  captive  Trojan  dame. 
Pel.  How  fled  she  ?  with  her  father  1  or  with 
whom  ? 

Cho.  The  son  of  Agamemnon  bore  her  hence. 
Pel.  Led  by  what  hope  ?  Hath  he  a  wish  to  wed 
her?  1189 

Cho.  And  thy  son’s  son  he  forms  designs  to  kill. 
Pel.  By  secret  fraud,  or  in  fair  fight  opposed? 
Cho.  By  Delphians,  in  Apollo’s  sacred  shrine. 
Pel.  Ah,  this  is  to  be  dreaded.  One  of  you 
Fly  to  the  Pythian  shrine  with  swiftest  speed  ; 

To  our  friends  there  each  circumstance  relate,  1195 
Of  what  hath  happen’d  here,  ere  by  his  foes 
The  brave  son  of  Achilles  basely  fall. 

MESSENGER,  PELEUS,  CHORUS. 

Mes.  Ah,  what  unhappy  tidings  do  I  bear 
To  thee,  old  man,  and  all  that  love  my  lord ! 

Pel.  My  mind  presages,  as  expecting  ill.  1200 
Mes.  That  ill,  O  reverend  Peleus,  thou  must  know. 
Thy  son’s  son  is  no  more,  slain  by  the  swords 
Deep-wounding  of  the  Delphians,  led  by  one 
A  stranger  of  Mycenae. 

Cho.  Ah,  old  man,  1204 

What  wilt  thou  do  ?  Nay,  fall  not ;  raise  thyself. 

Pel.  0,  I  am  nothing  ;  lost,  quite  lost ;  my  voice 
Fails  me ;  my  trembling  limbs  beneath  me  fail. 

Mes.  Hear  me ;  if  by  thy  friends  thou  wouldst  re¬ 
venge 

The  murderous  deed,  thus  sink  not ;  raise  thy  head. 

Pel.  O  Fate,  how  heavy  dost  thou  fall  on  me,  1210 
Thus  trembling  on  the  extreme  verge  of  age  ’ 

How  fell  the  only  son  of  him  who  was 
My  only  son  ?  I  wish,  yet  dread  to  hear. 

Mes.  When  to  Apollo’s  glorious  land  we  came, 


ANDROMACHE.  305 

Three  bright  returns  of  yon  high  beaming  sun  1215 
We  gave  to  view  the  wonders  of  the  place: 

This  woke  suspicion ;  and  in  crowds  convened 
Those  who  dwell  there,  the  people  of  the  god. 

The  son  of  Agamemnon  through  the  town 
Insidious  went,  instilling  in  each  ear  1220 

Speeches  that  raise  distrust : — “  Behold  you  him, 
Who  through  the  vaulted  caverns  of  the  god, 

With  gold,  the  treasured  gifts  of  mortals,  stored, 
Observant  walks  !  A  second  time  he  comes, 

The  same  his  purpose  as  before,  to  spoil  1225 
The  temple  of  the  god.”  Hence  gaining  force, 
Malignant  rumour  through  the  city  flow’d  : 

The  rulers  of  the  state  in  council  oft. 

And  oft  in  private  met ;  all,  whose  high  charge 
Presided  o’er  the  treasures  of  the  god,  1230 

And  in  the  pillar’d  dome  appoint  a  guard. 

Of  this  not  yet  inform’d,  the  victims  fed 
Where  high  Parnassus  waves  his  leafy  groves. 
Received,  we  nigh  the  altar  stood,  with  those  1234 
Whose  guests  we  were,  and  with  the  Pythian  seers. 
Then  one  thus  spoke : — “  What  shall  we  ask  the  gods 
For  thee,  young  man  1  What  brings  thee  to  this 
shrine  ?” 

“  I  for  my  past  offence,”  my  lord  replied, 

'■*  Would  make  atonement  to  the  god,  on  whom 
«.  call’d  for  vengeance  for  my  father’s  death.”  1240 
The  rumour  by  Orestes  spread  then  show’d 
A.11  its  malignant  power,  as  if  my  lord 
Had  utter’d  falsehood,  and  with  base  intents 
To  Delphi  came  :  within  the  temple’s  verge 
He  enter’d,  that  before  the  oracular  seat  1245 
His  suppliant  vows  he  might  to  Phoebus  pour ; 

And  then  beside  the  blazing  victim  stood. 

Here  arm’d  with  swords  a  band  in  ambush  lay 
Beneath  the  laurel’s  shade  ;  of  these  the  son 
Of  Clytemnestra,  whose  nefarious  mind  1250 

Plann’d  all  this  horrid  treachery,  was  one. 

Standing  in  open  view,  my  lord  address’d 


306 


EURIPIDES. 


His  vows  to  Phcebus  ;  they,  with  pointed  swords 
Advancing1,  thrust  at  him  unarm’d :  he  steps 
Backwards  (for  yet  he  chanced  no  mortal  wound 
To  have  received),  and  from  a  pillar’s  height  1256 
Snatching  the  arms  there  hung,  with  dauntless  port, 
A  warrior  now  in  martial  terrors  clad, 

Stood  at  the  altar,  and  thus  cries  aloud  - 
“  Wherefore,  ye  sons  of  Delphi,  would  you  kill  me  1 
Hither,  my  steps  were  holy  :  for  what  cause  1261 
Ami  destroy’d  I”  Though  numbers  there  were  nigh, 
Not  one  replied ;  but  from  their  hands  hurl’d  stones. 
He,  by  the  storm  like  thickest  hail  assail’d, 

Held  forth  his  arms  ;  his  shield  on  this  side  now, 

On  that  side  now  opposing,  wards  the  strokes  :  1266 
Yet  naught  avail’d  ;  for  many  darts  at  once, 

Arrows,  spears,  javelins,  all  the  weapons  used 
In  sacrifice,  the  ground  before  him  strew. 

Thou  wouldst  have  marvell’d  hadst  thou  seen  him 
bound,  1270 

The  darts  avoiding :  but,  when  now  they  press’d 
To  enclose  him  round,  nor  gave  him  breathing  time. 
He  left  the  altar’s  victim-sated  hearth, 

And  bounding  furious,  with  the  dance  of  Troy 
Rush’d  on  them  :  they,  like  trembling  doves  that  see 
The  hawk  pursuing,  turn  their  backs  in  flight ; 

Many  promiscuous  fall,  some  by  their  wounds, 

Some  in  the  strait  pass  trampled  under  foot ; 

And  from  the  hallow’d  dome  unhallow’d  cries 
The  rocks  re-echo’d :  like  a  cloudless  sky,  1280 
My  lord  in  glittering  arms  refulgent  stood. 

Till  from  the  middle  of  the  shrine  one  sent 
A  loud  and  horrid  shout,  and  fired  his  troops 
To  courage,  turning  them  from  flight ;  then  fell 
The  brave  son  of  Achilles  ;  through  his  sides  1285 
A  Delphian  driving  his  sharp-pointed  sword, 

With  many  others,  slew  him.  To  the  ground 
Soon  as  he  fell,  who  did  not  plunge  his  sword  1 
Who  did  not  hurl  and  dash  him  with  a  stone, 

Till  all  his  beauteous  form  with  savage  wounds  1290 


ANDROMACHE. 


307 


Was  mangled  \  But  his  breathless  corse,  which  lay 
Stretch’d  nigh  the  altar,  from  the  incensed  shrine 
By  them  cast  forth,  we  snatch’d  with  speed  away, 
Borne  in  our  arms,  and  hither  bring  to  thee, 

That  thou,  old  man,  mayst  heave  the  groan  of  grief, 
Bathe  it  with  tears,  and  grace  it  with  a  tomb.  1296 
Thus  hath  the  king,  whose  voice  declares  the  fates, 
The  judge  to  all  mankind  of  what  is  just, 

Pour’d  vengeance  on  Achilles’  suffering  son, 

Like  a  malignant  mortal,  old  debates  1300 

Bearing  in  memory  :  how  then  is  he  wise  ? 

Cho.  And  see,  the  king,  borne  from  the  Delphic 
land, 

Advances  to  the  house.  Unhappy  he, 

Who  suffer’d  thus ;  unhappy  too,  old  man, 

Art  thou ;  for  thou  receivest  the  lion  son  1305 
Of  thy  Achilles,  not  as  thou  dost  wish  ; 

And  thou,  on  losses  and  afflictions  fallen, 

Art  fallen  with  him  beneath  one  common  fate. 

Pel.  Wretch  that  I  am !  what  an  affliction  this, 
Which  here  I  see,  and  bear  into  my  house !  1310 

My  heart  is  rent  with  sorrow.  O  thou  state 
Of  Thessaly,  on  me  hath  ruin  fallen, 

And  desolation ;  I  have  now  no  race  ; 

I  have  no  child  remaining  in  my  house. 

Cruel  misfortune  !  on  what  friend  mine  eye  1315 
Shall  1  now  cast,  to  find  in  him  a  joy  1 
O  that  dear  mouth !  those  cheeks,  those  hands,  how 
dear ! 

Better  have  died  beneath  the  walls  of  Troy, 

And  on  the  banks  of  Simois  found  thy  fate ! 

Cho.  He  would  have  then  been  honour’d  in  his 
death,  1320 

And  lighter  sorrows  had  been  thine,  old  man. 

Pel.  O  nuptials,  fatal  nuptials !  you  have  brought 
Destruction  on  this  house,  and  on  my  state ! 

Ah,  miserable  me  !  Would  that  my  house, 
Unhappy  through  thy  marriage-bed,  my  son,  1325 

Had  ne’er  received  Hermione,  a  bride 


308 


EURIPIDES. 


Fatal  to  thee  !  Would  she  had  perish’d  first, 

That  pest  of  hell,  with  blasting  thunder  struck  ! 

O,  that  thou  ne’er  hadst  charged  thy  father’s  blood, 
Thy  noble  father,  by  his  arrows  slain,  1330 

On  Phcebus,  nor  his  vengeful  power  inflam’d ! 

A  mortal  thou  contending  with  the  god  ! 

Cho.  O  wo,  wo,  wo  !  I  will  begin  the  strain, 

And  wail  my  dead  lord  with  funereal  notes. 

Pel.  O  wo,  wo,  wo !  I  to  thy  mournful  notes 
Weeping  reply,  a  poor  distress’d  old  man.  1336 
Cho.  The  god,  the  god  and  Fate  have  wrought 
these  woes. 

Pel.  0  thou  most  dear !  ah  me !  ah  me !  my 
house 

Hast  thou  left  desolate,  forsaking  me, 

Childless,  unhappy,  in  my  hoary  age  !  1340 

Cho.  Thou  shouldst  have  died,  old  man,  before 
thy  sons. 

Pel.  Shall  I  not  rend  my  hair,  and  beat  my  head 
In  anguish  for  my  loss  1  For,  O  my  state  ! 

Me  of  two  sons  Apollo  hath  deprived.  1344 

Cho.  O  thou,  that  hast  beheld  and  suffer’d  ills, 
Wretched  old  man  !  what  now  must  be  thy  life  1 
Pel.  Childless,  forsaken,  finding  to  my  ills 
No  end,  my  woes  will  wait  me  to  the  tomb. 

Cho.  Bless’d  in  thy  nuptials  by  the  gods  in  vain. 
Pel.  Those  blessings  all  are  vanish’d,  lost  in  air, 
And  of  their  glories  not  a  trace  remains.  1351 
Cho.  Thou  wilt  live  lonely  in  a  lonely  house. 

Pel.  My  state  is  now  no  more  a  state  to  me : 
Farewell,  my  sceptre  !  to  the  ground  I  throw  thee. 
And  thou,  O  nymph,  dwelling  in  secret  caves,  1355 
Daughter  of  Nereus,  shalt  behold  me  sunk 
In  total  ruin,  prostrate  on  the  earth. 

Cho.  Ah  me !  what  means  this  motion  1  I  per¬ 
ceive 

Some  power  divine  :  look,  virgins,  look  :  some  god, 
Borne  through  the  ether  in  yon  silver  cloud,  1360 
Enters  the  plains  of  Phthia  famed  for  steeds. 


ANDROMACHE. 


309 


THETIS,  PELEUS,  CHORUS. 

The.  Peleus,  this  grace  thy  former  nuptials  claim: 
Leaving  her  father’s  house,  thy  Thetis  comes, 

And  first  exhorts  thee  for  thy  present  ills 
Not  to  indulge  excess  of  grief.  Ev’n  I,  1365 

Who  for  my  children  ought  not  to  have  dew’d 
Mine  eyes  with  tears,  have  lost  my  son  by  thee, 
The  swift  Achilles,  noblest  of  the  Greeks. 

Now  for  what  cause  I  came  I  will  declare : 

Do  thou  attend.  This  dead  son  of  Achilles  1370 
Entomb  ;  but  bear  him  to  the  Pythian  shrine, 

To  Delphi  a  disgrace,  as,  buried  there, 

His  monument  will  witness  the  foul  deed 
Committed  by  Orestes’  murderous  hand. 

In  the  Molossian  land  the  captive  dame,  1375 

Andromache,  must  dwell,  with  holy  rites 
Wedded  to  Helenus ;  and  that  her  son, 

The  sole  remaining  pledge  of  the  high  race 
Of  Abacus, — the  crown  is  his  :  from  him 
A  long  successive  line  of  kings  shall  rise,  1380 
And  in  Molossia  hold  the  imperial  power 
With  glory  :  for  thy  race,  old  man,  and  mine, 

Must  not  in  total  ruin  sink,  nor  Troy’s  ; 

For  to  the  gods  she  yet  is  dear,  though  low 
In  dust  by  hostile  Pallas  lie  her  towers.  1385 

But  thee  (that  thou  mayst  know  what  grace  attends 
My  bed,  a  goddess  born,  a  god  my  sire) 

I  from  the  ills  of  mortal  life  will  free 

And  give  thee  immortality  ;  thenceforth 

Thou  in  the  house  of  Nereus  shalt  reside,  1390 

A  god  with  me  a  goddess  :  thence,  thy  foot 

Unmoisten’d  with  the  ocean  waves,  thy  son 

And  mine,  the  loved  Achilles,  thou  shalt  see 

Residing  in  his  insular  domain, 

The  promontory  Leuce,  which  o’erhangs  1395 
The  Euxine  straits.  Go,  then  ;  to  Delphi,  built 

1392  To  walk  through  the  sea  without  wetting  the  feet  was 
a  mark  of  divinit  y. 


310 


EURIPIDES. 


By  hands  divine,  bear  this  dead  body :  there 
Entomb  it :  thence  the  cave  of  Sepias,  form’d 
By  beating  billows  in  the  ancient  rock, 

Revisit ;  there  await  me,  till  my  train  1400 

Of  fifty  Nereids  from  the  seal  bring 
To  lead  thee  hence  ;  for  thou  must  bear  what  Fate 
Decrees  ;  and  this  the  will  of  Jove.  But  cease 
Thy  sorrows  for  the  dead  ;  for  from  the  gods 
Long  hath  this  fatal  sentence  been  decreed  1405 
To  all  the  race  of  mortals  : — they  must  die. 

Pel.  Thou  generous,  thou  revered,  espoused 
nymph, 

Daughter  of  Nereus,  hail !  Worthy  thyself, 

Worthy  thy  sons,  these  things  hast  thou  disposed. 
Goddess,  at  thy  high  bidding  I  will  cease  1410 
My  sorrows,  and,  his  funeral  rites  perform’d, 

Go  to  the  cave  of  Pelion,  where  these  arms 
Encircled  first  that  beauteous  form  divine. 

He  who  is  train’d  in  wisdom’s  lore,  his  bride 
Will  take  from  generous  lineage,  and  betroth  1415 
His  daughter  to  the  virtuous,  nor  desire 
Alliance  with  the  base,  ev’n  though  she  bring 
A  rich  and  splendid  dowry  to  his  house  : 

For  from  the  gods  such  shall  no  grace  attend. 

Cho.  With  various  hand  the  gods  dispense  our 
fates ;  1420 

Now  showering  various  blessings,  which  our  hopes 
Dared  not  aspire  to ;  now  controlling  ills 
W  e  deem’d  inevitable  :  thus  the  god 
To  these  hath  given  an  end  exceeding  thought. 
Such  is  the  awful  fortune  of  this  day.  1425 

1398  The  cave  of  Sepias  was  in  a  promontory  near  Iolcos  : 
here  Peleus  first  wooed  Thetis 


END  OF  EURIPIDE8. 


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